If Wishes Were Horses
by WritePassion
Summary: There's an old idiom that goes, "If wishes were horses, beggars would ride." Somebody came up with that line to inspire people to stick to reality. Whoever it was, they were quite wise. Trust me, if your Burn Notice wish ever comes to life, you better run away or wake up. This is a warning, a cautionary tale of what might happen when a Burn Notice obsession goes awry.
1. Chapter 1

_Burn Notice: I don't own it, I just like to play with it._

**If Wishes Were Horses**

By WritePassion

_My name is Nina Kirk, and this is my story of how an innocent Burn Notice marathon turned into something beyond my wildest dreams._

I'd set up the perfect marathon watching environment consisting of my favorite TV watching pillow with the Burn Notice cast ironed on the surface. I made it myself and was pretty proud of it. Sam Axe's face was where I lay my head, a position that I often second-guessed. I should have put Anson's face there instead, because then I could smother him with my head every night. Anyway, I had my pillow propped on the couch arm, a big bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, a plate of nachos warming in the oven, and the fixings for mojitos waited on the counter, to be interspersed with doses of iced tea, of course. I had to pace myself if I wanted to make it through sixty hours of Burn Notice bliss.

The remote was ready and so was I. With the first drink and the nachos on the table, I picked up the device, hit the button, and my entire weekend belonged to Michael Westen and gang. I vowed to stay awake through every second. My friends didn't get my obsession, and so I indulged alone, wrapped in hours of exciting plots with my TV friends. Some would think I was crazy, but I never really cared much what other people thought of me.

Sometime in the wee hours between Saturday night and Sunday morning, I heard banging outside my apartment. My muddy brain thought gunshots, but the rhythm was too quick and even. Then I heard a muffled voice, and my eyes flew open. On the screen, Fiona entered Michael's hotel room with her hefty luggage full of a variety of weapons. She unloaded the rifle that was almost as big as her petite frame and she stood before him asking where Michael wanted her.

"Please, open up!"

That wasn't on TV. I gasped and jumped off the couch to approach the door. Looking through the peephole first, I saw no one on the other side. It must have been my imagination. But no, inside I had a feeling that I needed to open that door, so I unlocked it and did just in time to see a man wearing a Hawaiian shirt running down the hall to the next apartment.

"Wait! Please wait!" I should have just let him go. He seemed to have an idea where he was headed.

He turned and I blinked. His face was taut with tension, but at the sound of my voice offering him sanctuary, it softened a little and he smiled. "Thanks." He strode to my door.

I didn't realize that I'd even said anything, but apparently I must have invited him into my apartment. I gaped as he got closer and I was able to recognize him in the soft hall light. No, this couldn't be happening. He wasn't real. "Y-you're Sam Axe?"

"In the flesh, honey." He was wary, looking both ways down the hall. "Now, you invited me in. Can I get in there before these guys come back? They're probably sending reinforcements, so I gotta call my friends." He stopped scanning the area and faced me. "I hope you have a secure line."

"I have a landline, if that's what you mean." I nodded and stepped aside to let him in, just enough so his silky sleeve touched my bare arm and I breathed in the scent of Old Spice and musky perspiration with a twist of lavender. I closed my eyes as the aroma made my toes curl into the carpet.

"Woah, was I interrupting something?"

My eyes flew open as I realized the state of my living room, and I wondered what Sam was thinking about the pillow case and the show on the television. I slammed the door, locked it, bolted it, and sped past him to flip the pillow over on my way to the remote to turn off the TV.

"The, uh, phone is in the kitchen on the wall." I pointed to the doorway, grinning and sensing the heat in my cheeks. I could barely breathe as I watched him turn and disappear into the other room.

"Thanks." Sam went through the archway, and I soon heard him speaking to someone on the phone. How could that be if he was just a fantasy, a figment of my imagination?

I tried not to eavesdrop on his call and instead concentrated on cleaning up the evidence of my self-indulgent television orgy.

"Yeah, Mike, I'm safe for now... If I knew, I'd tell ya. I'm in an apartment somewhere. It was weird. I was running through the alley, found this door open, and suddenly I had this feeling that I wasn't where I was supposed to be... I don't know. I'll lay low, and you should too, and I'll figure out where I am... Uh huh, I'll see you in three days at that location. Good luck, Brother... bye."

I entered the kitchen with my dirty dishes and placed them in the dishwasher, and I felt his eyes on me. I realized I was being a terrible hostess. I hadn't even introduced myself! Straightening and pulling the reddish blonde hair from my eyes, I said, "Hi, I'm Nina Kirk." I held out my hand and he took it. The firm but warm grip sent electricity down to my toes and caused my cheeks to flush again.

"Nice to meet you, Nina. I'm Sam. Sam Axe." He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes to examine me. "But somehow you already knew that." He smirked. "Considering the trouble I'm in right now, I should have worried about that, but for some reason when I saw you I knew I was safe here."

My smile grew as I replied, "You're perfectly safe, Sam. No one will know that you're here."

At that moment, someone pounded hard on the door, shaking it in its frame. "Open up! Open up before we break door down!"

I recognized the accent. "Russians! What are Russians doing here," I rasped.

"They're looking for me." Sam's face turned ashen.

With no time to think, I pulled on his sleeve and led him to the bedroom. The fabric was as soft and as tactilely erotic as I'd expected it to be. I hid a smile from him. "Now, get under the covers! Wait! Take off your clothes first."

"What? Why?"

"Well, it'll help sell my story," I replied as I stripped off my pajama bottoms. I left on my tank top with the spaghetti straps. I still had some sense, of course. Standing before him in the navy top and matching panties, I continued, "I have to make them think that they woke me, and if they come in here I'll explain my boyfriend is sleeping and he... never mind, just do it!" In my mid 40s and still in good shape, it was plausible that I could be his girlfriend, although in reality it was out of the question. He was supposed to be a fictional character, after all!

I spun from the room but couldn't help glancing back for a moment to see if Sam followed my instructions. He looked at me with doubt of my sanity on his face, but he slipped out of his shoes and unbuttoned his shirt in a hurry. I gave him a few seconds while I stood at the door, flinching at the violence with which the man on the other side assaulted it, and I mussed up my hair.

"Who is it," I spoke. I still don't know how I managed to sound so calm.

"Is not important. We want Sam Axe," the Russian replied.

"Doesn't everybody," I replied smartly.

My sense of humor was lost on the Russian. "We know he is here somewhere."

"Yeah, well, it's just me and my boyfriend and we're getting pretty pissed off at you banging on the door. Knock it off or I'll call the cops!" I was getting pretty bold with that inch and a half piece of wood between us. No doubt he had an AK or something on the other side and could turn me into Swiss cheese if he felt the need. "There's nobody here named Sam Axe. Get over it, guys. He's a TV character, not real life!"

I heard a lot of rumbling on the other side. I pressed my ear to the door and couldn't decipher more than a couple of words, and I wished I'd learned my Babooshka's native tongue. The voices faded away, but the Russians didn't leave. They attacked the next door with the same vigor. At least they would leave us alone, but for how long?

After watching all the episodes over and over again, I racked my tired brain for the information I needed to get us out of this. But I was a complete blank. I wandered back to the bedroom and smiled at the large lump under my quilt.

"Sam? Sam, they're gone from my door and are checking the others. What should we do? Should I call the cops?"

He didn't answer. For a moment, I thought maybe it was all my imagination, and the pounding had been some drunk dude coming home to the wrong apartment. But no, I know what I heard. My feet took me around the bed to the left side where I saw that the lump was indeed Sam. His eyes were closed. In the pale lamp light I stood watching him sleep and my heart lurched into my throat. He must have run himself to exhaustion. I knelt beside the bed and dared to reach out to touch his scruffy cheek. I still wasn't sure this was for real, but his skin was warm and pliable to the pressure from my fingertips, proving that he was indeed genuine flesh and blood.

I sat with legs folded under me on the floor and I watched him. He brought a hand out from under the covers and scratched his perfect nose. It was all I could do to keep from sighing in joy. His lips moved as if he was about to speak, but he settled again with the hand slipped under his cheek. The soft, even sound of his breath pierced my heart.

I pushed the hair back from my forehead and berated myself. I had too many mojitos and this was my punishment, a hallucination of my favorite Burn Notice character. I needed to get my butt off the floor, brush my teeth, floss, and get to bed. The whole marathon idea was ridiculous. Obviously my head couldn't take so much excitement in one sitting.

Even as I slipped in between the sheets, I continued to scold myself for my overactive imagination. The bed on the opposite side dipped from his weight, or so I thought. When I turned, I saw his silhouette in the dark. I lay on my back and let out a deep breath. Get over this, Nina. This is not real. It's not real. It's not... The litany in my head led me to a deep but dream-filled sleep.

* * *

The morning sun usually snuck into my eyes at this hour, but not today. It was probably cloudy, and I grumbled. Then I perked up, thinking that a rainy day was perfect for indulging in another Burn Notice marathon. Then, like a glass of cold water thrown in my face, I remembered everything that happened the night before. I shook my head. No, no more mojitos. That was one heck of a dream!

Someone mumbled and shifted, and a muscular male arm slithered across my chest. I felt the warmth of his body pressing into mine and his arm curled against my cheek and ear. My eyes flew open as he turned my head, and just before his lips captured mine, I noticed that Sam's eyes were closed. He must have thought I was Elsa! This was wrong, but on the other hand I thought, why look a gift horse in the mouth? It wasn't as if they were married, and they weren't real anyway, so why not enjoy the fantasy for awhile? I wrapped my arms around his neck and shoulders and dove into the depths of his kiss. He felt real enough, but maybe I was losing my grip on sanity. If so, I was determined to have fun going down that slope.

Every cell in my body came awake with the way Sam's lips made love to mine, and he left me breathless to the point where I thought I would pass out if I didn't break away and take a deep breath. I knew I was risking breaking the spell, but I wanted to be awake for whatever came next.

"Ohhhh, Elsa," Sam moaned as I took my breath. I gasped when his hand found my breast and played with the nipple. He chuckled low at how my body arched into him before tucking into the curve of my neck and shoulder and laying down a hot trail of kisses.

I couldn't believe my luck. His hands skimmed over me, one pushing up my top to gain better access to what was underneath, and the other dove down to my panties. His fingers teased around the side, making me wonder when he would remove the thin fabric. After all, I quickly discovered by my close proximity to him that he wasn't wearing anything.

"Sammmm," I breathed as the back of my hand skimmed over his skin, diving lower and lower. He was everything I dreamed of and more, and at my light touch, he pleased me with another moan.

His lips tore away from my skin, inches from my bare breast. His weight lightened, and with alarm I opened my eyes. He perched above, catching his breath and staring at me. He panted out the words. "What... what are you doing? You're not..."

"Elsa?" My eyebrow rose along with the corner of my mouth. "No, I'm not. I guess I could ask you what you're doing, but I know, and I have to say it was pretty good."

"I... I'm sorry... Nina." It took him a few moments, but he remembered my name. Embarrassment flashed across his face as he pulled back, gathered up enough sheet to wrap around his waist, and slipped off the bed. In the midst of his disorientation, I ogled his upper body. He'd been working out since last season, and I smiled in appreciation. Sam snagged his boxers from the floor and said, "Would you mind? I'd like to get dressed and get out of here." He swallowed hard. "I, uh, think I overstayed my welcome."

I frowned and blinked, fighting tears. I'd never been rejected so coldly before. Then again, I only had myself to blame, taking advantage of his dream to have him for myself. "Sure," I mumbled and flicked off the blanket, turned my back, and snatched up my robe from a chair near the bed. On my way to the kitchen I said, "Feel free to use the shower. I promise I won't... take advantage of you again."

I didn't wait around for an answer. Embarrassed at myself, I hurried to the kitchen to get the coffee started and make him some breakfast. It was the least I could do after humiliating him like that. If I could kick myself, I'd give myself a good swift boot to the state line.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

I heard some soft thumps in the bedroom and I smiled, because it didn't sound like Sam was getting dressed. He was probably going through my dresser drawers, trying to figure out if I was friend or foe. Perhaps that meant he intended to stay awhile, despite the indiscretion earlier. He did say to Michael, or whoever was on the other side of that call, that he would lay low for a bit. Where else would he go?

The bedroom door snapped open and his feet padded down the hall to the living room. I poked my head out the doorway and watched him drop his shoes near the door. His expression was one of confusion. Hopefully over breakfast I could ease his mind.

"Pssst, Sam."

My eyes widened and my mouth formed an 'o' when he spun and stared at me, startled by my pitiful attempt not to startle him. He gave me a weak smile and spoke. "Yeah? Did you, uh, want something?"

"How do you like your eggs?"

His eyebrows shot up and settled just as quickly as they rose. "Oh, you don't have to go through any trouble for me," he said. "Maybe a cup of coffee and I'll be on my way. I don't want to bother you."

"You said you were going to stay in hiding for awhile." I stood in the door with hands on hips while I still held the spatula in my hand. "I'd say that's pretty hard to do if you're out there." I dropped my hands and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about this morning. I promise that if you stay here for a couple days until you meet up with whomever was on that phone, I'll behave myself."

A slight smile crossed his face and he dropped his head to hide it from me. Then he raised that adorable chiseled chin, looked me in the eye and said, "That's a two-way street, sister. I don't know what got into me, and I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You just thought you were somewhere else. So, your eggs?"

He sighed as he realized that he wasn't getting off that easy. If he really intended to run, he knew I wasn't going to send him away with just a measly cup of coffee. "Fried is fine. Thanks."

"Great!" My smile was smug, and I whirled on my heel and returned to the kitchen to finish breakfast.

While I cooked, Sam meandered around my apartment. He discovered the second bedroom where I kept my computer on a desk and a day bed provided some emergency overnight accommodations. I wouldn't dream of making him sleep on it, not that it wasn't comfortable. He spent some time in there, most likely studying the pictures on the wall or trying to get into my computer to figure out where he was. All in good time, Mr. Axe. I smiled at the idea of hosting him for the next couple days or so. It was like a dream come true, sort of.

My dream would have been a little more... robust... in the bedroom this morning. I felt my cheeks grow hot just as he popped in to the kitchen.

"Everything okay in here," he asked. I looked up to see his eyes narrowed and pointed at me, which only made my blushing worse.

"Just about done! I, uh, put some mugs out. Grab yourself some coffee and have a seat at the table." I busied myself with sliding the eggs onto plates instead of staring at his back as he slipped past me in the narrow space on his way to the coffee machine. His backside brushed mine, and just to be polite I tucked myself closer to the range. "Sorry, it's a little small in here."

"No problem."

"I... I noticed you didn't bother with a shower. There are plenty of towels in the closet in the bathroom and..."

"Thanks, but there's kind of no point since my clothes aren't exactly clean," he replied and sat at the table, his body angled toward me.

"True, but if you're staying here, I can throw them into the wash before I run off to take care of some things, and by the time I get home, you'll have clean clothes and be presentable again." I turned to him with the two plates in my hands and a smile on my face. "Sound like a good plan?"

He backed away from the table so I could set the plate in front of him. "I suppose that would work. Thank you."

My smile widened, and it gave me such a rush to be able to help him. "It's my pleasure." Oh dear, I'd said that with a tone that seemed to give him the wrong idea. I could see it in the invisible wall that came up between him and me. "So, uh, you're Sam Axe." I bowed my head and threw some sugar into my coffee to keep myself occupied.

"And you're Nina Kirk." There was an underlying hint of amusement in the tone. "Tell me about yourself. Since you seem to know so much about me, I feel like I'm at a disadvantage."

"Oh, you don't want to hear about me. I'm just a boring, single girl who writes human interest stories for the Miami Herald, and I have no life." I sighed and realized how pathetic I sounded, but it was the truth.

"A pretty woman like you? Really? I'd think you'd have guys banging down your door for a date."

I looked up at him. I thought maybe he was just trying to be charming but the warm expression on his face was genuine. "Thank you, but I'm afraid with my erratic life the only guys banging on my door are Russians in the middle of the night."

He laughed. My heart fluttered at the sound, and I felt utterly foolish for letting myself start to fall for a fictional character. Who was I kidding? I wasn't starting to fall! I'd already taken the leap and splatted on the pavement. Having him here in the flesh was going to be my undoing. Before he left, I would be ready for some serious therapy if I wasn't careful. But when I looked into those rich brown eyes, I thought to myself, why would I want to be careful? The sparkle in them was like a siren song calling me to my ruin, and I didn't care.

"Your breakfast is getting cold," he stated and pointed to my plate.

My eyes were on that hand with the strong finger arced in my direction and the glint of gold on his wrist. The sight left me breathless. "Yes, you're right." To shake myself out of my reverie, I told him about myself between bites. "As I said, I work for the Herald, and my work takes me to a lot of places around the metro area and at odd times now and then. It makes it difficult to get a steady boyfriend, so I have none. Plus, I'm writing a book in my spare time, so... well, I'm not a complete hermit. I have some girl friends who drag me out now and then, trying to set me up with someone." My smile was a lame effort to hide my embarrassment.

"Don't you hate that when people set you up with who they think is the perfect person for you," Sam asked in a rhetorical fashion. "I'd much rather go find 'em myself, thanks."

"I doubt you have trouble doing that." I praised him and held my blush hostage behind my coffee cup.

There was that laugh again, and at the sound of it I teared up because it was like hearing angels sing. Why couldn't I ever find a guy like him?

"I'm not looking right now. I have a special lady..."

"Elsa," I interrupted.

He stared at me. "Yes. How'd you know?"

"I bet you'd be surprised what I know about you, Sam." My voice came out shaky, and as I saw the fear trickle into his eyes, I knew I put him on guard.

"Who are you, and why do you know about me?" He glanced around the room, no doubt looking for a quick exit, and asked, "Have you been spying on me?"

This was it, the moment I could come clean. Could he handle it, that he was a fictional character come to life in my world? Confident that he wouldn't freak out, I answered. "In a manner of speaking. Wait here, I'll be right back." I stood and skirted around him, laying a hand on his shoulder in reassurance, but I sensed his muscles tense under the shirt fabric. "Really, it's okay."

I returned with the DVD case from season six, my latest Burn Notice purchase, and I held it out to him. Sam took it from me and his eyes were locked onto the cover, and his fingertips skated over the vinyl as he gaped. When I sat down he looked at me with incomprehension in his features.

"What is this? A TV show? And Mike, Fi, and I are in it?"

"Yes." I nodded. "I don't know how you wound up here or why, but you're..." I had to muster up the courage to say it. "You're not real. At least, not here. Maybe in some other universe you are and you fell out of it and landed here."

"The Russians sure sounded real enough last night." He narrowed his eyes. "Maybe this is all some kind of weird dream. I must have been in that hole too long."

"What are you talking about? Where were you," I asked and leaned closer in anticipation of hearing a spoiler. I had a love-hate relationship with spoilers. They, well, they spoiled the surprise, yet I couldn't help seeking them out.

"Mike is this close to getting out of the Agency," Sam said with a hesitancy in his voice and his finger and thumb millimeters apart. "Then the Russians caught up to us and threw us into a makeshift cell for a few days. I think that's all it was. They were holding us in an abandoned building, but Mike and I got away. We split up and I just kept running."

"How long?"

"A day. Just when I was thinking it might be safe to go back to Elsa's, get cleaned up and change clothes, I find out that they're tailing her everywhere." He paused and I could imagine the memories rattling around in his brain as his eyes grew misty. "I waited until she left for work and... dammit, I let them follow her. Then I snuck in through the back, got my business taken care of, and left a note under her pillow." He released a heavy sigh and folded his arms on the table. "I took a big risk. She could be dead now thanks to me."

Whatever was happening, it definitely hadn't occurred in any of the episodes I'd seen so far. Maybe this was after the season, and that somewhere in the ether the characters of Burn Notice continued to live their lives and fight the bad guys. He looked so distraught, I slid my chair next to his and put an arm around him.

"Sam, it'll be okay. They're not going to hurt her if they think she'll lead them to you."

"But how long will they patiently follow her? They're going to resort to other measures if I don't get back soon." The agony in his eyes broke my heart, and despite how our morning began, I took him into my arms and rubbed his back with my hand.

"Nothing's going to happen, Sam. You're not in that world anymore, and if they're here going after you, there's nobody to hurt Elsa." I hoped my logic was sound.

He pulled back and cleared his throat. "I don't want to bet on that." I was surprised when he took my hands in his as he said, "It's best if I just go and try to get back to where I belong."

"But how? And what about your contact?"

He licked his lips, just a little bit of tongue that would have tickled my insides if things hadn't been so dire. "Yeah, you're right. I need to wait to meet up with Mike."

"Good. Until then, you can stay here. Do your laundry while I'm gone to work," I said with a smile.

Sam released my hands and sat back in his chair as he smiled and picked up the DVD case. "Maybe I will, and I'll check out this show, see what you people think our lives are like."

I glanced at the clock and I froze. "Oh no, I'm going to be late."

"Late for what?"

"Work!" I popped out of my seat and felt his hand circle around my wrist.

"What day is it?"

My whole body relaxed. "I'm so disoriented. It's Sunday, not Monday! Between the huge Burn Notice marathon and last night, I'm all turned around." I laughed at myself, let out a relieved breath, and sat at the table. "Wow, that was close. But anyway, I do have to get myself together. I, uh, have to get out for a bit and run some errands. While I'm gone, you can get your stuff taken care of." I winked and added, "I'll make sure to give you enough time. I promise."

He chuckled and I could sense the discomfort wafting in the air. I decided to put him out of his misery by excusing myself. "You can leave this. I'll take care of it when I get back." I looked down at my half eaten breakfast and shook my head.

By the time I emerged from the bathroom wearing a white, sleeveless linen top and matching sand colored capris, I heard clinking in the kitchen and water running. I ducked my head into the room and found Sam at the sink, dropping the last of the silverware into the bin to air dry, and unstopping the sink to let the soapy water drain. I cleared my throat and startled him.

"What are you doing," I asked with a charmed smile. "I told you that it could keep until I got back."

"Well, it was the least I could do for your taking me in like this," Sam said, and he eyed me from head to toe and back and smiled. "You look nice, Nina."

"Thank you." He'd done it again! He was, without even trying, causing me to fall in love all over again. Such a pity that he wasn't real! I picked up my purse from the counter and snuck past him, looking down rather than into his eyes, because I was afraid my imagination was getting the better of me again. "I'll see you in a few hours, okay? If the Russians come back, don't leave. Hide or something." I braved a look into his eyes. "I want you to be here when I get back."

His head tilted and he pondered what I said, no doubt wondering why I would say such a thing. I left him like that and locked up behind me, and I checked my watch. In three hours I would return and hopefully Sam would still be there and my apartment wouldn't be in a shambles because a Russian black ops team decided to invade. Now, wouldn't the landlady, Mrs. Yarmush, love that!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Three hours were more than I needed, but I wanted to give Sam his space and let him feel comfortable enough to clean up and settle in. After taking care of everything on my list, I made a quick side trip for a few extra supplies. As I left the grocery store, I bit my bottom lip and wished I'd consulted with Sam before buying anything, but I thought that it should be okay. After all, this was stuff he ate on the show, so how could I go wrong? Everything went into my trunk and I slammed it shut, stowing away my purchases and my doubts in the tiny space.

At the apartment building, I parked and opened the trunk, and I glanced up at my windows. Would I find Sam waiting for me, or would he be gone? A chill prickled my skin despite the balmy breeze, and I scanned the parking lot for anyone who might look like a Russian commando, or at least Russian. I grabbed the bags and the twelve pack of beer, closed the trunk, and turned smack dab into the chest of a tall, muscular man dressed in gray fatigue pants and a t-shirt. His sour expression made him look like he needed to get out and have some fun once in awhile.

"Hi," I said, my voice in a forced calm. "Can I help you?"

Without fanfare, the man held up a picture of Sam and asked, "You know dis man?"

I grinned and said, "Yeah, he's that guy on Burn Notice. I love that show." I tilted my head up and gave him a full gleaming grin.

The Russian commando's face turned even grimmer. I didn't think that was even possible. "Is not actor. His name is Sam Axe."

"Sam Ex?" My brow furrowed.

He tried to pronounce it again, with no better results, and it only frustrated him. "Ex. Sam Ex."

"Careful honey, don't hurt yourself."

He shook his head. "Never mind. If you see, you not hide him. He is trouble, believe me."

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some ice cream melting here." I slipped around him and headed for the entrance, and I could feel his eyes watching me. I tripped on a crack and the plastic bag holding the detergent almost dropped and exploded on the pavement, but I caught it before I had a massive mess on my hands. I held it tighter and scurried up to the door.

"Hi, Nina," the male voice with a slight nasal tone greeted me along with an open door. Why couldn't I just go do my thing and get to my apartment without commandos and geeks bothering me? My anxiety ramped up as I thought of Sam waiting. Would he be worried? That thought rattled me, and I bobbled the bags as Gary stepped back to let me inside.

"Hi, Gary," I responded and slid through the opening with my heavy load.

"Oh, hey, let me get some of that for you." The door thudded closed, locking before the Russian could follow me. I felt my load lighten as Gary took the bags in my right hand. "Wow, you've got beer. Havin' a party?"

I was afraid to answer, because if I said no, Gary would continue to grill me about why I had a pack of beer considering that I didn't drink the stuff. If I said yes, he would ask to be invited. Gary wasn't a bad guy. He was just a little annoying, a nerdy social misfit. Not to mention he was about twenty years younger than me and had somehow, because I was nice and engaged him in conversation a few times, latched onto me as a friend.

"I have a guest over," I replied, thankful that I'd come up with a happy medium on the fly. "A guy friend."

"Oh." Gary nodded and gripped the plastic bags tighter. "I can take these for you, Nina."

I wanted to scream. Between the Russian lurking in the parking lot and the Velcro geek hovering in the lobby, I couldn't wait to get back to my apartment and be alone with Sam. That is, if he didn't take off while I was gone. I was afraid he might, and until I saw him there with my own eyes I wouldn't stop worrying. If he was gone, it meant that I'd simply gone around the bend for some reason, that Sam had never been there and it was all in my head. I couldn't deal with that possibility.

"You know, that's really sweet, but I'm good."

Gary already had the elevator call button pushed and it glowed a faded orangey yellow. A ding announced the car's arrival, and as soon as the doors opened I stepped inside. Gary followed me with my bags. It was a short, quick ride to the third floor, and we soon stood outside my apartment. I set down my bags and the beer, unlocked the door, and tucked my keys into my purse before picking up my load and taking the bags from Gary.

He tried to keep hold of them, saying, "It's okay, Neen, I got it."

I detested that shortening of my name, but I could never tell Gary. First of all, it wouldn't make any difference. Second, I felt that correcting him would hurt his feelings, and I didn't want to do that to him. So I endured it and rolled my eyes, took the bags, and bid him a good day before opening the door and kicking it shut behind me. It was rude, but some lines could not be crossed. My threshold was one of them.

I didn't expect to be grabbed and have a gun shoved in my face. Fear sucked the breath from my lungs as Sam's hand pushed me against the wall hard enough to see a few stars. When I was able to see straight again, I noted his wide eyes and slack mouth of contrition as he relaxed and backed away from me.

"I'm sorry, Nina." He put the safety back on and tucked the gun into his waistband.

"What was that all about," I asked.

"You were gone awhile. I wasn't sure if you were coming back, or if something happened to you." He ran a hand through his hair, and I noticed that it had been washed. I could smell my shampoo from where I stood. "Then the door unlocked and nobody came in at first, so I, uh, was on my guard. Sorry."

"You're forgiven. I guess caginess is a hazard of your lifestyle, huh?" I reached down to pick up some of the bags, and this time, when Sam helped, I didn't mind.

He chuckled as he reached around me and locked the door. "Definitely. Again, I'm sorry." He bent at the waist to grab the last straggling bag, and his head was inches from my nose. Damn, he smelled good. If he was a figment of my imagination, I had to say my brain was pretty good at conjuring up fantasies!

If my hands hadn't been full, I would have caressed his shoulder when I spoke. "Don't worry about it. I see you took advantage of my being gone." I nodded at him, my eyes roaming over his clean khakis and t-shirt.

Sam grinned and said, "Yeah. I hope you don't mind that my shirt is hanging in your bathroom. I wash 'em in a gentle cycle, but they never go in the dryer. It ruins the silk."

I nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I have a couple of blouses like that."

Sam and I entered the kitchen where we placed the bags on the table. The beer he set down with near reverence and the smile on his face told me that I'd made a good choice. "I know nothing about beer," I explained. "And the stuff you supposedly drink on the show doesn't exist, so I had to take a guess."

"You guessed right. Thank you," he said as he eyed the pack before moving onto the bags. "You must be expecting me to stay awhile." He rooted around in the flat bag and came up with a couple of Hawaiian shirts. "Nina, this is too much."

"If you're going to stay for a few days, you can't wear the same shirt over and over," I replied with a light tone, chuckling away my sense of embarrassment. I'd never gone shopping for men's clothes, not even for my father, and I was guessing at the sizes. "If they don't fit, I can take them back and get the right size. Same for the pants."

After a quick glance at the label on the pants, he said, "Nope, they should fit." He held a shirt up, unfastened the buttons and slipped into it. With the buttons done, he shrugged his shoulders to get it to lay right, and then he smiled. "It fits great. Thanks, Nina." He kissed my cheek and slipped past me. I heard him in the bathroom checking his new shirt in the mirror, and I smiled at his muffled sounds of delight.

I gave Sam an empty drawer in my dresser and the shelf above the toilet for his things, and I let him figure out how he wanted to organize them while I finished putting away the groceries. Before the last item was in the cupboard, I heard the television and instantly recognized from the dialogue that he'd been watching a fourth season episode of Burn Notice.

I came into the room and Sam was sitting on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table, a beer in his hand and a grateful smile just for me. I wondered how he snuck past me to get it, but I didn't ask because I was afraid he would tell me that I wasn't observant and that would get me into trouble someday. "Hope you don't mind, I was watching a few episodes while you were gone. I just picked them randomly from each season." He looked at me and his eyes roved to the empty space on the couch next to him. "Have a seat, and we can watch together."

Didn't Sam realize how tempting it would be to sit close to him, to slide an arm around his waist and nestle into his shoulder as we watched the show? He was driving me insane with the thought. I just had to keep remembering that he's not real, at least not in the sense of being of this world. But it was pretty hard to convince myself of that when he sat a few feet away looking so attractive in his new blue shirt with white semi-transparent flowers on it. My dad always liked to wear Hawaiian shirts, but he never looked even close to hot like Sam Axe.

I stifled a snort of laughter, and Sam glanced at me. "What's funny?"

"It's nothing. I ran into one of those Russian guys in the parking lot, and he asked if I knew Sam Ex." I snickered.

"The Russian guys are staking out the place?" Sam shot to his feet and headed for the window, but he stayed far enough away to not be seen by anyone outside. "Dammit, there's one across the street. This is not good, not good at all."

"I played dumb. When the guy flashed a picture of you, I told him I thought it was the actor who plays you on Burn Notice," I said. Sam passed me, and I held him back from pacing with a gentle hand on his arm. "It's okay."

"No, it's not okay. They're still hanging around, which means they know I'm here somewhere and they're not gonna stop looking for a way to flush me out." He let out a breath and took a long swig of his beer that he'd virtually forgotten during his momentary panic. His eyes locked onto mine, full of regret. I had the feeling that he really wanted to stay and get to know me, but he was going to run. "I can't stay here, Nina. I don't want to put you in danger."

"Sam, I… I think you're making a big mistake. Maybe we can work out something, a way to throw them off so they leave. You guys have done it before."

"When? How do you know…." He trailed off and nodded. "Yeah, that's right. The TV show." He stared at the frozen image of himself on the screen, let out another breath and his entire body seemed to vibrate with nervousness. "I really would like to stick around and see what you've seen on this show. I wanna know how much of it is true." He smirked for a moment before frowning. "But right now I don't have that luxury. I gotta go."

"No!" I stepped in front of him and grasped his arms.

Sam did the same to me, and I felt the power of his fingers pressing into my flesh. "Nina, I can't stay. I'm sorry. You've been great, but I can't do this to you."

I wanted to cry, scream, beg, do anything to make him stay. Unfortunately, I would only be making myself into a big fool and Sam would be even more adamant about leaving if he thought I was a crazy lady. I loosened my grip and threw my arms around his shoulders to hold him tight. He circled my waist with his arms and accepted the token of my affection.

"Be careful out there, Sam," I said into his shoulder, which I'd managed to make wet with my tears. "You know where I am, so if things cool down, you can come back."

He sighed, and holding me by the arms he pushed me away so he could see my face. The gratefulness in his expression made me tingle, but the sadness in his eyes clashed with my joy. "I'm sorry, Nina. If it's any comfort, as far as safe houses go, this was one of the nicest I've been in." His smile was tender and full of regret. "But once it's been found out, it's not safe anymore." He pulled me into his embrace and I took as much as I could, braving a kiss that landed on his earlobe as he parted us. His eyes gravitated to my lips, and with even more regret he pressed his lips to mine, but only for a couple seconds. It was enough to burn into my memory. I would never forget it.

"I've gotta go," he whispered. "Thank you for everything, Nina. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"If you could tell the network to bring back Burn Notice for a few seasons, or convince them to do a spinoff starring you, that would be more than enough," I replied with a smile. I knew he had no power to do such a thing, but just the thought of it lifted my mood. After all, if I could imagine Sam Axe in my living room kissing me, maybe anything was possible.

Sam released me and turned toward the door, but he stopped. Everything seemed to run in slow motion as he turned back to me and shouted, "Nina, look out!" His arm came around my back and he pulled me down onto the couch, covering my body with his at the same moment that the picture window exploded and shattered into a million pieces. Automatic weapons fired bullets over our heads, and in a gap between Sam's arm and his torso I saw the Russian guy had rappelled through the window. He was shooting as he got his footing.

While he shielded me, Sam pulled out his gun and fired at the Russian. He hit him solidly in the chest with two quick rounds, and he went down. I felt myself rising, but it wasn't under my own power. Sam pulled me off the couch, wrapped his right arm around my waist, and held his gun in his left hand as he swept the area. No one else came through the window.

As the smoke cleared, I shook. My voice rattled out of me as I asked, "Is he dead?"

"I don't know." Sam released me and checked on the guy bleeding on my carpet. Mrs. Yarmush was going to be furious! I groaned deep inside, wondering how this spiraled out of control.

Before I could ponder it, Sam barked at me. "Nina! Come on!"

"Huh? What?"

He reached out for my hand and steered me toward the bathroom. "Grab some stuff. We're getting out of here now."


	4. Chapter 4

_A little treat for your 4th of July: an extra chapter! _

**Chapter 4**

We're getting out of here? Where are we going? For how long? I had to be to work on Monday! I had a looming deadline on my story about the Dancing Grannies doing their thing Miami style, and if the story wasn't in my boss's computer by ten a.m., I was in big trouble. As I reached for toiletries like a blind woman, I realized that none of that mattered anymore. My life was in danger because now I was linked to Sam. The Russians wouldn't just let me walk back into my life as if Sam had never been here. I was in deep, and I needed to be thinking of where we could go to be safe. I had a more pressing deadline to deal with, and dead was the scariest part of that word.

"Nina!"

"I'm coming, Sam!" I grabbed my pink makeup bag that was really more like a small carryon. I loaded it with his stuff and mine, and I zipped it as I hurried to the bedroom.

Sam found my small suitcase under the bed and filled it with some of my things as well as the new clothes I'd bought him. I didn't have time to press the khakis, but he would just have to make do. Wrinkles were the least of his worries at the moment. He looked up and slapped the case shut, zipped it, and pulled it off the bed in one smooth movement. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah." The word came out more like a question and his eyes locked on mine.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he said, "I'm sorry, Nina. I didn't want to drag you into this, but now I can't leave you here. They'll..."

"Shhh, it's okay. Let's just get out of here," I said. Somehow I managed to say it in a calm voice that put him at ease. "We'll take my car..."

"No! We can't take the chance that other guys saw you with your car. No, we need to find a different set of wheels."

I slammed the apartment door and made sure it was locked, not that it mattered with the window broken, but hey, old habits die hard. I followed Sam to the elevator, and while we waited I noted the look on his face. He was thinking of taking the stairs. "What do you mean, 'find' a car? You wanna steal one of my neighbor's cars?"

"I'm sorry, but we're in kind of a tight spot here," Sam exclaimed as he continued to look around. He spotted a figure and his entire body tensed as he dropped the suitcase and held up his weapon.

"Ahhh! Don't shoot, please! Neen, what's going on?"

I whirled on Gary. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I heard a crash a couple doors down and I realized it was at your place, so I was coming to see if you were okay." Gary responded with his arms up to block his face, and from between his forearms his gaze locked on Sam and the gun. He tried a weak smile but only managed to look more terrified. "Neen, uh, who's this? Is this the guy who was staying with you?"

"Gary, we don't have time for this," I said. "I'll explain later when I come back. Hey, can I borrow your car?"

"Uh, sure. Something wrong with yours?" He looked puzzled. His eyes never left Sam during the entire exchange, even though Sam had lowered his weapon.

"No, it's fine." I pulled the keyring from my purse and took my key off of it. "Here, we'll trade until I get back. How's that?"

You'd think Gary just won the lottery by the look on his face. Granted, my car wasn't anything expensive and fancy, just a little blue Hyundai that I treated myself to after my last bonus. It was like the one Fiona drove in season five. Gary owned an old Toyota, but at least it was in good condition. I worried that it might be a disadvantage if we had to do a Russian car chase. The Hyundai would have been better. Gary snatched the key out of my hand and dropped it into his pocket, from which he fished out his ring and gave me his key.

"Thanks, pal," I said with a warm smile and leaned close to place a quick kiss on his cheek. Just in time, the elevator dinged. "Okay Sam, let's get going. Thanks again, Gary. You're a sweetie!" The doors opened and I added, "Oh, can you be an even bigger sweetie and call the cops about the dead body in my apartment? Great. Thanks!" I caught a glimpse of Gary's slack jawed expression before I turned toward the elevator.

The doors opened and I gasped as two muscular, sour faced men took a step toward the open door with automatic weapons in their hands. Sam put up his arm and stopped me while he trained his gun on them. The Ogre Twins saw us and before either of them could get his finger to hug the trigger, Sam shot one and he went down. The other started firing at us. Gary ran screaming down the hallway. I reached for the suitcase that Sam dropped and turned to the stairs behind us.

"Sam, come on!"

He almost fell on top of me as I trotted down the stairs and he launched himself through the open fire door, but he turned, pushed it shut, and leaned into it while he used the butt of his gun to break the glass on a box containing a fire ax and a hose. I dropped my load to help him release the ax from its case.

"What are we going to do with this," I asked as I handed it to him.

"Hold the door tight." He bent over and turned the ax blade to face the door. The door bumped open a crack, but I pushed it with all my might back into place. "Keep him from opening it!'

"I'm doing my best!"

Sam got the blade under the door and kicked at it until it wedged underneath. The Russian pushed on the door again and effectively locked it long enough for us to scram. Inside, I giggled in glee, only wishing I could see his frustration. There was no time to waste, however, so I picked up the cases and followed Sam downstairs, my chest heaving with quick shallow breaths. We hit the lobby before the Russians and ran to the parking lot. I knew where Gary parked, always in the same space toward the back where he was guaranteed to have a cushion of empty spaces on both sides, unless someone was having a party. "Over there, Sam. It's the gold Toyota!"

Sam twisted at the waist as he ran. "Give me the key!"

With my hands full, I could only skid to a stop behind the car and drop everything before finding the key and giving it to Sam. He opened the trunk, I threw everything inside, and he went around to the driver's side. If things had been different, I would have been a little disappointed that he didn't open the passenger door for me, but a shot fired over my head brought me back to reality. We were running for our lives and chivalry could wait. As soon as I got in, Sam shifted into reverse and hit the gas. He came short of plowing into another car before he put the little sedan into drive and squealed out of the parking lot. I tried to get my seatbelt on, but it kept locking whenever he braked or made a sharp turn out of the lot. On a straightaway, I had more luck. The tinny click of the clasp was music to my ears. I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief but the Russians were behind us and gaining in a black SUV.

"We should have taken my car," I groaned.

"Don't worry, we'll lose 'em." Sam pressed the pedal to the floor, putting us well above the legal limit. I glanced at the speedometer and saw he was doing almost sixty five.

I looked up and saw a red light ahead. Go green. Go green. Go green! I ran the words in increasing desperation in my head, and a little squeak came out of my mouth. We were less than fifty yards from the intersection, the light turned green, and it was clear for us to zip through. My shoulders dropped in relief.

"Don't get too comfy, they're still behind us. Get ready in case we have to ditch the car," Sam instructed with a grim tone. "Can you shoot?"

"I've never even held a real gun in my life. But I can try."

He shook his head vehemently. "No, I've already gotten you into enough trouble. Don't worry, I'll lose them." He took a sharp turn on two wheels that screamed and got the attention of the bystanders on the sidewalks. I thought I saw someone lift a cell phone to their ear, most likely speed dialing 911. Sam kept going straight, veering around traffic when he needed to. I gripped my seat with both hands, fighting the temptation to close my eyes and wish this all away. Whatever dream I was in the middle of could stop at any moment before I had a heart attack.

"Oh. Oh no, Sam, train signal! Train signal up ahead!" Could this get any worse?

Through the closed windows I heard the train's moaning whistle as it neared the crossing. The gates were starting to go down, and I just knew we were about to wind up splattered all over the front of the freight train barreling down the tracks. Another shot rang out, and I lost track of how many rounds the Russians lobbed at us. This one shattered the back window and I ground my teeth. Gary would not be happy with me after this was over. A few bullets had already pierced the back end. The car would be a total loss by the time this chase ended. If any of this was even real.

"Sam, noooooo!" I screamed as he hit the gas and the car jumped forward.

I dared to look to the right and saw nothing but the front end of the train, heard the eardrum shattering blast of the horn, and a moment later, instead of seeing the white light, my eyes feasted on palm trees going by at too fast a rate. Tires squealed as Sam braked the car and it fishtailed into a half spin before stopping. Our breaths chugged in the small space as the train gave us one more scolding groan of its horn before speeding along the rails to its destination. Tires flashed between the breaks in the railroad cars' wheels, and between the cars themselves I could see the black SUV that the Russians used to pursue us. I could only imagine the looks on their faces, and a small hysteric laugh came out of me.

"I wouldn't get too happy yet, sister," Sam said as he turned the wheel and got us straight on the road. He drove at a more prudent speed away from the tracks. "We got away this time, but until we can take them all out, we're in danger." His eyes held sorrow as he glanced at me. "I am really sorry, Nina."

"Don't be. If I hadn't been around to help and get you some wheels, you'd be back there right now bleeding out on the pavement." I winked. "And we can't have that, because the world still needs Sam Axe."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Sam drove around as if he was unsure what his next move should be. We were stopped at a light and I glanced at him. He looked around at the cross street, his thumb tapping the steering wheel and a thoughtful look on his face. I'd seen that one before, and I knew he was worried. Before I could say anything, the light changed and he drove for a couple of blocks. He pulled into the parking garage on the left side of the street, found an empty space near the bottom, and parked.

"What are we doing here," I asked.

He held up a hand as he punched in something on his cell phone in his other palm. From where I sat I could hear an ominous tone and the muffled words of a recorded voice. He closed the connection, grumbled under his breath, and tried another number. He got the same results. Staring out the windshield at the building across the street that glowed from the bright sunlight, he didn't move for a long time.

"Sam, isn't it risky to stay in one place for too long?" He didn't reply, so I unbelted myself and reached across the space between us, turning his face with a gentle movement of my hand. "Sam, what's wrong?"

"I don't know what's going on. I tried calling my friends, and I get a recording that their numbers don't exist." He was trying so hard to remain calm and collected for me, I just wanted to kiss him and make it all go away.

But I didn't. I reined in my thoughts and said, "I think we need to talk about that. Fiona and Jesse's numbers..."

"How do you know I was calling them?"

I smiled. "Who else would you call for help? Michael is God knows where right now."

"I'm sorry, I didn't get a chance to see anything in season seven," Sam smirked, causing me to laugh. His pained expression didn't abate, however. "Nina, I don't understand what is happening. Tell me."

"I know as much as you," I responded. I turned my body so I faced him, took his fidgeting hand off the steering wheel, and held both in mine. As I spoke, I looked him straight in the eye so he knew I was telling him the truth. "I don't know how it happened, but somehow you wound up coming here from the fictional TV world of Burn Notice. Obviously, those Russians somehow made it through as well. Michael, Fiona, Jesse, and Maddie are all still there, as far as we know. You're not going to be able to contact them."

"Back at your apartment you tried to tell me that and I thought it was ridiculous. You know it all sounds impossible," Sam muttered and pulled out of my grip. He resumed staring at the mall across the street. "Prove it to me."

"Prove it to you? How can I?" An idea flashed in my brain and I snapped my fingers. "I have an idea! Drive to Michael's loft!"

"Mike's loft is burnt, and it's not safe."

"Well, if the Russians know that, do you think they'll look for you there?" He shook his head and I nodded mine with a smirk on my face. "There you go. So drive, or I'll trade places with you and take you there myself."

"Sheesh, okay!" Sam put the car in drive and got us out of the parking garage. It cost us a dollar for parking no longer than ten minutes, but that's the breaks. I didn't say a word and let Sam take the route he knew, because I was half curious to see if it matched the layout of the real Miami.

Within minutes we were parked across from the loft, or the lot where the loft used to be. From where we sat, we had a clear view of the river. Sam left the car running, and he was so flabbergasted at the sight that I had to put the car in park for him.

"Wh-where is it?"

"It was torn down recently," I answered. "Although, the building you knew as the loft was only used for exterior shots from the air. The interior was all done on a sound stage."

Sam turned and gaped at me, his eyes searching for my sanity. "A sound stage? Seriously? You expect me to believe that?"

"Yeah, I know it sounds strange even to me, I guess." I sighed and pressed my head into the back rest, wishing I would wake up. But that wasn't happening. "I wish I knew what to tell you, how to explain your being here in my world."

Without a word, Sam started the car and shifted it into drive. After one last look at the empty lot and a sad shake of his head, he drove away. I knew where he was going next. Part of me wanted to stop him, but I knew it was the only way to get him to see that this wasn't where he was supposed to be. I had no idea what we would do after that. Sam parked the car along the curb at Maddie's, or what passed as Maddie's house in the establishing shots on the show. He yanked the key out of the ignition and threw open the car door. I had to hurry to keep up with him as he approached the back side entrance.

I waited at the bottom of the steps while he opened the screen and rapped on the inside door. No one answered. There was a car in the driveway, so someone was probably home. He banged his fist on it again.

"Maddie! Maddie, open up!"

I was getting concerned about the amount of violence Sam might be willing to use against that door, so I stepped up to his side.

"Maddie! Come on, it's me, Sam!"

Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone peer through the sheers on the dining room windows, and footsteps pounded into the kitchen. It was an older woman, but she looked nothing like Madeline Westen, or Sharon Gless for that matter. She stared at Sam, her eyes wide and scared. I waved and smiled in an effort to put her at ease, if only a little.

"Who are you," she asked through the barrier.

"Who are you? Where's Maddie?"

The woman's face transformed from fear to annoyance. "If you're some of those Burn Notice fans, go away! I'm tired of giving tours of my house!"

"What?" Sam glanced at me with a furrowed brow and a frown. "What is she talking about?"

"This is what I mean, Sam. This isn't Maddie's house, it never was in real life. On the show it is."

"Please, just go away," the woman begged. "You can take pictures of the front, but stay off the grass!" She shut the curtains on the window, and our audience with the homeowner was finished.

"This isn't really Maddie's house." Sam said it as if he'd just awakened from a dream. "I... I..." Shock was starting to set in. He staggered off a step and found his footing on the ground, and I was running again to keep up with him as he hurried to the car.

"Where are we going now?"

"Elsa's hotel," Sam said. "I know it's a risk, but if it's not really hers... No, I can't believe that. Come on, let's go!"

We found the building that Sam knew as Elsa's hotel. It was a hotel, but it had a different name. We entered the lobby and he looked around, his head swiveling back and forth so quickly I thought he would get whiplash. With each minute that passed, I noticed the wrinkles in his forehead deepened and a sense of despair emanated from him. My heart ached and I was sorry that I started him on this sick tour to prove that he wasn't on TV anymore.

"None of these people, the staff, are familiar," Sam said, and I could hear the despondency in his tone. "What the hell is going on?"

"I'm sorry, Sam. This is the real world. Elsa doesn't exist here."

The dark look he gave me made me take a step back. I was about to apologize for putting him through this rude awakening, but he whirled and rushed out of the hotel with me on his heels, silent again. If he had it in his head to go to Elsa's mansion, I was sure I would lose control and scream at him to stop torturing himself. It was time to face facts, and maybe use some of my contacts to find a safe place for him until we could figure out a way to get him back to the television. That sounded so strange to my inner self, but that is exactly what needed to happen.

By the time we reached the gate of a mansion that Sam knew as Elsa's, I was ready to call it a day, go back to my apartment, and wake myself up from my foolishness. But first, I had to stop Sam from trying to find a way over the fence and into the complex. On the off chance that I wasn't going crazy, I had to prevent the man from winding up in jail or worse.

"No way, mister, I am not gonna let you do that," I ground out through my teeth as Sam started climbing a brick wall. I grabbed his pants pocket and my other hand found his waistband. With all my strength, I pulled.

"Let me go! You're gonna rip off my pants, you know," Sam said as he hung from the top, trying to swing a leg up to straddle it.

I grabbed the swinging leg and brought it down as I responded, "I don't care. I'll do it and leave you in your skivvies. Either that, or you come down peacefully." I grunted and pulled harder. "That's my final offer!"

"Ninaaaa," Sam cried. His hands slipped off the capstone and he fell.

I was his soft landing. My teeth jarred as my backside made contact with the edge of the sidewalk and my body flopped onto the concrete. A muffled crack led to the sensation that made my head feel like a bell that had just been rung, and a sharp pain ran through me as I lay there stunned.

"Oh god, Nina. Nina, are you okay?"

"Ohhhhhhh," I moaned. "I'm awake, but that's about all I can say."

"Jeez, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" He sounded as if he was about to break into tears.

I opened my eyes and for a few moments there were two Sams. They blended into one, and I tried to shake my head, but it hurt too much. "It wasn't your fault. I'm the one who pulled you down."

"Yeah, but it was my idea to scale the wall." His face was a mask of seriousness as he checked me over. "Looks like you're okay, except for maybe a bump on the head. I should take you to the hospital."

"No, I'll be fine."

"No. You're not a fugitive, you'll be okay going there. Come on." He gave me a hand to get me on my feet and all the time his eyes never stopped checking me for injuries. "You steady?" His hands spanned around my waist.

"Maybe a little. Really, I'll be okay. We just need to find someplace where we can hole up for a few days and rest."

"Okay, but first, you're going to the hospital to get checked out. I am not gonna be held responsible if something happens because you didn't go." His face was only inches from mine when he looked deep into my eyes and said, "Don't make me carry you, because I will." A hint of a smile turned up the corners of his mouth, and I found it so sexy. Too bad I wasn't equipped to deal with that at the moment.

"Fine," I grumbled. "You win. Just promise you won't let them keep me overnight. We need to keep moving and find a safe place." I smiled. "I think I know just the location, too."

"Great. We'll worry about that later."

Sam continued to grip me in his arms as he led me to the car, and I felt like an angel held me in his wings. My feet were light, dancing me across the narrow strip of grass to the vehicle.

"Nina. Nina!"

I smiled, and I think I told him I was in heaven, my body floating. On the fringes I heard voices. One sounded like Sam, and he was very worried about me if the tone was any indication. "I'm fine, Baby," I said before drifting off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

A crash and a rumble woke me. It was dark but a warm light from the hall gave me enough illumination to see that I was in a hospital bed. Oh great. I recalled everything up until the point Sam carried me to the car. No, I was walking to the car. Sam. Where was he?

"Sam?" I croaked into the darkness. "Sam, where are you?"

Maybe I really did go crazy and all of the things I remembered were in fact a part of my overactive imagination. That thought made me panic. I forced a sob to stick in my chest. It didn't feel good, but I didn't want anyone to hear me and shoot me up with some anti-depressant or something.

"Sam?"

A rustling came from the shadows to my left near the window, and a shadowy figure got up from a couch underneath it. A bolt of lightning lit up his face and my whole body relaxed when I saw that it was Sam. "Shhh, it's okay, Nina. I'm here."

"Sam? I-Is it really you? I didn't just imagine all this?" I was bawling, but I didn't care. Tear stains would just be a nice compliment to my restraints later. "I'm sorry. I'm usually a lot stronger than this, but with everything going haywire, I'm turning into a wreck."

"Doesn't surprise me." Sam flicked on a switch and a lamp came to life. His smile was reassuring, and he took my hand and squeezed it.

"I don't know how you all do it." My eyes focused on him, and to see his smiling face, to touch the scruff on his cheek as he took me into his arms made me so happy, I murmured, "Of course, you're all fake."

"Hey, wait, I think I feel pretty real right now. Don't I?" He pulled back and smirked.

I laughed, keeping it soft. "You got me there." Looking up at him, my voice was soft and full of gratitude. "Thank you for staying. I was afraid you'd vanish like a dream."

"No way. Whether you like or not, you're stuck with me for awhile, sister. I'm not going underground until I know you're okay." His thumb rubbed a light path on the back of my hand as he spoke, causing me to wonder about his motives. But I was too fixed on his face as he spoke, banishing my cynical self to a corner of my mind. "The doctor said you can probably leave tomorrow morning, so I'm crashing on the couch. After that, I'll get you home and I'll find a place to hole up."

As he spoke, Sam stroked my hair and cupped the side of my face. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was loving me. It felt so good and I wanted to fall victim to his charms, but the vision of Elsa stopped me. I resented her for coming between us when he was here and she was there, and unless he returned, they would never be together again. That thought made me think, but I squashed it like a bug. After all, I did have some scruples!

Sobering, I said, "I can make some calls. We'll find a place to go. And no, you're not going to take me home. Remember, there's a little bit of a mess at my place?" Another roll of thunder shook the window pane. "Oh, and unless someone boarded the window, most of my stuff is probably ruined now from the rain."

"I'm sorry," he said, and I believed him.

"It's okay. It's just stuff." I raked my hand through his hair and assured him with my touch that everything would be okay.

Emotions warred within him. His lips were so close to the inside of my wrist, I thought he might want to kiss me again, and if he did, I would take it with relish and knock him out of his shoes. But he didn't make a move. Instead, he smiled as if I was getting the consolation prize before he straightened and stood beside the bed.

"You get some rest. We'll think about where we're going tomorrow, okay?" He slipped away, and I bit back a sigh of regret as he returned to the couch.

I was still awake when he drifted off to sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about what just happened and how heavenly it would be if he loved me and this was all for real. I was having doubts again whether I was truly experiencing all this or if it was only a dream, a very, very weird dream. I kept hoping I'd wake up. Then I'd berate myself and say that it was better to have this fantasy than nothing at all. As long as it didn't get out of control, what was the harm? But it already had and now I was so entangled in it, I didn't know how to escape.

The next day Sam was the ultimate gentleman as he assisted me getting into the car. Then he drove us, but I had no idea where we were going, and Sam wouldn't tell me. It was starting to bug me.

"Where are you taking me? I should call..."

He interrupted me. "No need to call anyone. While you were sleeping, I contacted one of your friends. Barb, I think it was. Yeah, it was Barb." He threw a smile at me. "She was the first one in your phone's address book."

Barb Johnson was not only a dear friend, but my cubicle mate at the paper. She was married, with one kid and a stable husband, and she managed to crank out a weekly column on household hints and balancing work and family. She was sweet, funny, and very down to earth. I couldn't even begin to imagine how she reacted to Sam's phone call! "And what did she say?" Panic gripped me, and I shrieked, "You didn't tell her who you really were, did you?"

Sam laughed and his eyes sparkled. "Are you kidding? I told her I was Sam, the guy you met on a singles' site online. I said I was in town and you had a little accident but that you were okay, and I was looking for a place to stay for a couple days."

"She believed that?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "She heard about what happened at the apartment. And she knows about your Burn Notice obsession, so when I said my name was Sam, I'm not sure she knew what to make of my story."

I groaned and fought the urge to cry. My friends thought I was a little whacked, but this would clinch it in their minds!

"I'm sorry, Nina. I didn't know how else to play it."

It was impossible to stay mad at him when he gave me that sincere, contrite face. "Okay, fine. So where are we going?"

"There's a motel near the beach that Barb recommended. It's not nearly as nice as Elsa's place, I mean, the Beacon, but it's discreet." He glanced at me. "That's what we need right now."

"Yes." I fell silent, leaving my fate in Sam's hands and trusting that he would take good care of me.

He drove us to the motel and he parked in an out of the way place. When we checked in he paid in cash, and for a moment I pondered whether the sixty dollars would make a weird dent in the economy in the real world and cause an issue in Sam's world. That was too much to consider! By the time Sam opened the motel room door, I was ready to drop onto a bed and go to sleep. I didn't care what happened after that as long as Sam didn't leave.

And to my chagrin, I later remembered murmuring as Sam tucked me into bed, "Don't leave me, Sam. I can't do this without you."

I could have sworn I heard him respond, "I'm not going anywhere, honey. You're all I've got now."

When I woke it was dark again and Sam's body stood in shadow near the window. The curtains were closed but they didn't keep all the light out of the room. He must have heard me stir, because he slipped to his knees beside the bed and his hand whisked the hair out of my eyes.

"How are you feeling," he asked. I detected some concern, but he was more happy that I'd awakened.

"I feel better than last night," I replied. "Are we still in my Miami?"

He chuckled and replied, "Yeah. I'm still here too, and I have a feeling I'm stuck here for good. Not that it's all that bad. I'll just miss my friends, you know?"

"And Elsa. I understand." I sat up, crossed my legs, and gave Sam room to sit on the bed. In the soft glow filtering through the curtains I saw his sad smile and my eyes stung. I reached out and took his face in my hands. "Sam, you shouldn't have to stay here if you don't want to. If we can find a way for you to go back, you must go."

"Why should I? What's waiting for me there besides my girl? A TV show that got canceled?"

"Well, it didn't really get canceled. They just decided to end it."

"But why, if we were doing so well," Sam cried and turned away.

I got to my knees and put a hand around his neck to pull him close as my other hand rubbed his back. "As much as I like having you around, this isn't where you belong."

"So I can go off to oblivion. Nice." His voice cracked.

"There'll be other shows..."

"But not for me, Sam Axe. I got the ax, sister, and... and maybe that's why I'm here." His eyes widened with excitement. "Maybe I wasn't going to sit by and let my fate be such that I fade away with everyone else."

"If you were escaping, why didn't you bring Elsa along," I asked, not wanting to hurt him, but that fact needed to be addressed.

His head dropped back and he stared at the ceiling as he said, "I should have brought everybody with me."

I was getting annoyed at his taking on a responsibility that wasn't his. Planting my hands on his shoulders and forcing him to look at me, I asked, "Did you plan on coming here?"

He stared at me as if I'd lost complete sense, but it slowly dawned on him that he was the one who wasn't thinking clearly. Which, of course, only served to make him collapse into himself and wallow in his grief. He clamped his arms around my body as if I were the only thing keeping him from disappearing. I didn't know what to do as all the pain and frustration of his short time here came rolling out like a swollen river over an overburdened dam. All I could think was to hold him until the wave passed.

When his lips found mine and he kissed me deep and hard, at first I was frightened by the power behind it. Then I welcomed it with a dance of my own lips and tongue, and he moaned as he took me in. For a moment I felt cheap for taking advantage of him again when he was in such a vulnerable state. I pulled away, and the force of tearing my lips from his made mine feel raw and bleeding. But they weren't. His chest rose and fell and his eyes glistened with questions.

"Sam, I can't do this when you love another woman. I-I can't."

The exhalation that came from him shook me to the core. "You're... you're a very honorable woman, Nina. I apologize for trying to force myself on you."

"If you were a free man, I wouldn't feel forced upon." I dared to touch his cheek. "But as long as Elsa owns your heart, there's no room for me." I got up to use the bathroom and when I returned Sam was nowhere to be seen. "Good going, Dummy. You made him leave!"

I checked the long walkway in front of our room but I didn't find him there. Trying to sigh away my sorrow, I returned to our door, but I couldn't get inside. I was locked out! It must have automatically locked behind me when I left, and I didn't have the key card. "Crap," I muttered before pounding on the door. "Sam? Sam, are you in there? Please, let me in!" No one answered. I tried repeatedly until someone next door came out of their room and barked at me to shut up.

The office was empty, so I had no choice but to go back to the room and sit on the concrete in hopes that Sam would come back soon. I stepped on a small sharp stone and muttered a curse as I picked it out of my sole. It looked like it was a minor puncture wound. I'd live. My hand reached for the stair railing. I was feeling wiped out and wished I could go back to bed, but the hard walkway would have to do for now.

Mid-breath, a big hand clamped over my mouth and an arm snaked around my waist and picked me off the ground so my feet dangled. I tried to scream, but my captor's grip was so tight I couldn't make a sound. I was lucky I could breathe. My muffled cries and curses were for nothing.

"I have the girl. Bring the truck." He spoke in broken English with a Russian accent.

I freaked out and squirmed against his grip, but he only tightened it more. My bottom lip brushed the side of his hand, and I saw an opportunity. I moved my jaw, took in the flesh and bit him. Hard. I thought I would take off a good chunk before he screamed in agony and loosened his hold. I elbowed him in the chest and my body slipped, allowing me to jam my heel into his instep. Don't let anyone kid you and say you can do that in bare feet without injury. It hurt like hell, but at the moment my only aim was to get away.

"Hey, stop her. Stop her, you fools! She's getting away!"

Despite the pain in my heel, I ran over gravel, glass, whatever was on the pavement, and I headed in the opposite direction of the truck. The driver backed up and crashed into something in his effort to turn around in the tight parking lot. The other Russian shouted at him in his native tongue, and I couldn't help but smile a little. Then I saw a figure on the sidewalk walking toward me, locking on my running form, and changing to a trot, and I felt a momentary sense of panic. My brain tried to go back and remember what Michael Westen would do in this situation, but it wasn't happening. At the speed I was going, I'd probably just mow the guy down and keep going.

"Nina? Nina, what the..."

I plowed into Sam and he pulled me sideways into some bushes. The Russians weren't far behind, but I didn't have to tell him that. He grabbed my waist and put a hand over my mouth as he settled me on the ground against him behind the bushes. The Russian ran past us and the truck trolled along the street, the driver hanging out of the cab searching the area. The runner came back and stopped right in front of us. I felt a freak out coming on, but I held it in check along with my breath. With my back against Sam's chest, I detected his shallow, noiseless breaths. It put me at ease.

The runner got into the truck and the two drove away. We waited until we were sure they were gone before standing, and even then Sam kept an eye on the street.

"We can't stay at the motel anymore," Sam declared. "Let's get moving."

"But I left my purse there, all my clothes..."

"Nina, we've got no choice. I found a place where we can go. It's not half as good as the motel, but it'll be hard for anyone to find us there."

I'd finally gotten to the point where I had to make a decision. If I went with Sam, who knew what would happen. How much deeper was this situation going to get? I could still back out and go home and no one would know what happened. I glanced at my watch and realized that in more ways than one, it was already too late. Things had changed and there was no going back.

"Sam, my job... I had a deadline for an article yesterday and I missed it. I hardly ever miss a deadline! My boss is probably wondering where I am, since I didn't call in..."

He stopped me with a finger on my lips and an empathetic expression. "I understand, hon, but you can't call him now. Trust me. We've got to just disappear for awhile."

I held back a whimper of helplessness. When I signed on for my wish to interact with Sam Axe, I wasn't counting on anything like this! He grabbed my hand and pulled me into the shadows as we ran away from the coastline.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

One good thing about being led around Miami by a fictional ex-SEAL and covert ops man was that I learned a lot about what to do and not do while trying to remain inconspicuous. With my purse left at the motel, I had no access to cash and Sam didn't have more than a couple hundred on him, so we were forced to take shelter in an abandoned warehouse in Coconut Grove. It wasn't too terrible. We found a space with a lot of old office furniture in it, including some couches that would make decent beds.

As the sun came up I waited for Sam to return with something to eat. He insisted I stay put and he would go in search of some cheap food. I asked him to keep on the lookout for a working pay phone, because I hoped that I might be able to call work and let my boss know I was okay, at the very least. For a minute I considered that I could write all my experiences down and turn it in as a story, but the idea was so crazy I had to scold myself for being so silly. No one would believe it. Not even I could, and I was in the middle of it! My head was starting to spin just thinking about where I was and what was happening around me, and I had to go lay down.

"Nina? Hey, Nina, how are you feeling," Sam asked in a soft voice. His hand squeezed my shoulder, gently bringing me out of a deep sleep.

"Wow, how long were you gone?" I sat up, rubbed my eyes, and glanced at my watch. My contacts were a bit gummy from being in so long, but I blinked a few times and cleared them.

"Not more than a half hour, I'd guess. I brought some yogurt, granola bars, and water," Sam replied with a smile as he held up the plastic bag.

"Seriously? You really eat yogurt? I thought that was Michael's thing."

"Yeah. I found a grocery store nearby and it was a lot cheaper than any other source of protein we could get. Come on," he said and pulled out a foil-sealed cup and a plastic spoon, presenting them to me. "Gotta keep up your strength."

Sam parked himself on the couch with the plastic bag between us, and he picked up a container and spoon for himself. We ate in silence and listened to the street sounds outside and the movement of others inside the building. I was concerned about the squatters, but Sam didn't seem to have a problem with them. He said they were a nice cover and would most likely be our first alert if someone came into the building.

"I met some of our neighbors on the way up," he explained. "Nice people. They're wary of strangers, but sharing a little bit of the wealth with them and getting some info in exchange, well, I think I made a few friends."

"You gave them some of our stuff? We can't afford…."

"When you need lookouts, a yogurt or granola bar is a fair trade towards goodwill," Sam said with all seriousness.

"Sam, you didn't tell them why we're here, did you?"

He shrugged and looked away a moment, then returned his gaze to mine. "When you've been doing this as long as I have, you learn how much you can give away without giving away everything. You know what I mean?" He winked.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. Even after watching seven years of the show, I still don't have a handle on spy craft." I finished off my yogurt and dug into the bag for a granola bar. "So, what do we do now?"

"The really boring part of being a spy. We lay low, hang out here, and I'll stick my neck out now and then to see what's happening."

My hand came upon a thin, rectangular object and I pulled it out of the bag. It was a brand new deck of cards. My eyebrow went up. "I suppose this is something to keep us occupied?"

"You bet. After breakfast, are you up for a little poker?"

I laughed. "What'll we play for?"

"We'll figure out something. I'm sure there's gotta be something around here we can use in place of money."

After we ate, Sam and I searched our second floor and found some rainbow colored paperclips in a desk drawer. Sorted by colors, they made an excellent substitute for chips. Then we played and the stakes got higher and higher until we were playing for purple paperclips. He threw his last one on the pile and gave me a stare-down.

"Call it, honey."

"Four of a kind, kings." I laid my hand on the desk and presented a smug smile.

"Crap. I had four of a kind, tens." Then he smiled and laid down his fifth card. "With a wild card."

"Awww man!"

As he pulled the paperclips to his side, he said, "Hey, some gotta win, some gotta lose." Then he laughed. "Wanna change the game to gin or something?"

"Oh you think because you bested me a couple times…."

"Pfft, a couple?"

My laughter came easy and I realized that I was starting to relax. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing. "Is this okay?"

"What? Is what okay?" He looked at me, puzzled by my question.

"I'm starting to, well, not exactly lower my guard. It's just that I'm starting to feel safe here, I guess."

"That's good, as long as you stay aware of what's going on around us." He reached across the short distance and took my hand. The way his fingers played with it, and the easy smile on his face, well, it made my insides turn to jelly again. "I trust that you're going to do just fine, Nina."

I was glad that Sam had so much faith, despite the fact that he didn't know a lot about me. I rectified that by getting into a long conversation about my life, going back to my childhood up to how I found myself single in Miami and working for the Herald. The cards lay forgotten as we sat on the couch and talked. In exchange, I learned a lot more about Sam Axe than the script writers gave us on the show. Whether any of it was true, that was anybody's guess.

"Murphy's gonna be upset with me about that article," I said. "I can just see the steam coming from his ears." I turned to Sam and said, "You know, he's probably gonna fire me if I don't show up in a couple days." The fact that Sam looked sincerely contrite made me feel good, if only a little.

"I'm sorry about that. Maybe you should come back with me, if I ever figure out how to go back to where I belong." He was serious as a heart attack. I could see it in his eyes.

"Oh no, no, no," I said and shook my head slowly. "What would I do there? And you're already tied to Elsa, so it's not like I'd have someone to lean on for awhile until I got my feet under me. No, I couldn't do that."

Sam finished off a banana and tossed the peel into the plastic bag. Our supper consisted of fruit and the last of the yogurt that had gone warm, but it was still palatable. "I feel terrible getting you into the middle of my mess. You know, it's entirely possible that I'll never get back."

"Well, you don't have to worry. If that's the case, I'll be here for you," I answered his unspoken question before he could ask.

"I was hoping you'd say that." He smiled as he laid his arm along the back of the couch. "I really like you, Nina, and I have a lot of respect for how well you've taken everything that's come your way. A guy would be an idiot not to fall for you."

There it was again, the smoldering look in his eyes as he closed the distance between us. He peered into my yogurt container, saw that it was empty, and he took it from me and set it on the floor. The way he did it, his chest brushed mine, and when he came up his lips touched my arm where it met my shoulder. I was glad that I had fallen asleep in my clothes at the motel, or there would have been a lot more skin for him to cover during that initial kiss.

"Sam," I warned him. "I don't want to be a substitute, a stand-in for as long as you're here."

His arms wrapped around my body and kept me from backing away, while his eyes locked onto my lips as I spoke. He flicked his gaze up to mine and the corners of his eyes crinkled. "While we were in the thick of things, I watched you and admired your strength. Now, with some down-time, I've had a chance to get better acquainted and… I find myself attracted to you. I think I could even l…."

"No, you can't." I turned my head away.

"Why not?"

"One word. Elsa." I pushed against his chest and hoped he would let me go, but he didn't budge.

"I love Elsa, but let's face it, I'm not going anywhere. I'm stuck here."

"Ah, so it's any port in a storm, huh? I get it." I think I shocked him by my cold words, because he loosened his grip and allowed me to back away. "I'm not a toy, Sam. I'm a woman who has irrationally been in love with you for quite some time now, and… and you know that, and you're using that to your advantage. You've got a bird in your hand. Don't mess it up with me in the bush!"

"Uh, I think we already did the bush thing," he said, looking at me with an impish smile.

I really wanted to laugh, but I couldn't. He had to take things seriously. I jumped off the couch and knocked over my yogurt cup. I bent over, picked it up, and threw it in the garbage and walked away to the far end of the floor. Thankfully, he let me go and didn't follow. After awhile I returned to the couch and we talked. I marveled at how attentive he was. I hadn't had that from a guy in a long time, the feeling that I was the only woman in the world. I began to see what was behind the Sam Axe mystique. And the way he opened up, I was certain that he trusted me completely. I hadn't experienced that in a long time, if ever, from a guy. It was great, but weariness was overtaking me as darkness closed in.

"It's getting late. I'm going to try to get some sleep," I said as I backed off the couch and crossed to the one that I'd chosen for myself. I closed my eyes against the disappointment in his. I was falling in love with him again, but I wasn't quite prepared to go over the edge.

"Night, Nina babe," he said and walked toward the windows. I wasn't sure if he was trying to get away and sort out his feelings or just give me some privacy after such verbal intimacy. Whatever the case, I was grateful.

The evening was hot and sticky and I tossed and turned. I couldn't sleep under those conditions, and I wished I was home and in my own bed where the AC could keep me comfortable. I heard footsteps and sat up, my head swiveling and my eyes trying to find the source. I relaxed when I saw Sam's silhouette near the corner windows. Curious, I rose and joined him. He heard me coming and turned his head, and I saw him smile.

"You're up. Can't sleep either?" I shook my head, and he reached out to pull me into his side. "I've been watching the cop activity for the past hour or so. Seems like a lot of traffic for this area. I spied some drug activity going on in that alley and a buy going on down the street, so they're probably just patrolling for that reason."

"They wouldn't be looking for us, would they?"

Sam's jaw bumped against the top of my head when he shook his. "I doubt it. Hey, it's okay. I'll keep an eye on things and if it looks like we won't be safe here, we'll move before daylight."

"Why has everything gone so crazy? Two days ago my life was normal, boring even." His finger tipped up my chin until I was able to look into the shadows of his eyes. "Now that I have some excitement, I'm not so sure I like it."

He smiled and chuckled low. "If it's any consolation, you're doing a great job." He turned away from the window to face me, and he closed the distance until his shirt, damp with perspiration, pressed into my tank top. I really wanted to repel the hand that skimmed along my jaw, the thumb caressing my cheek, but I'd played with this fire too many times in my fantasies and in what had become real life. Sam felt good, smelled manly, and the sensation of being cradled in his arms was more than I could take.

I let his lips capture mine, and a whimper of desire gave away my need. It spurred him on. His kisses burned and ravished my lips and skin, leaving me gasping for air. He showed mercy by breaking away and attacking my earlobe, roving down my neck. All I could do was hang onto him, taking handfuls of his shirt at his back as I leaned against his arms and curled into him. A part of me, that last shred of good sense in my center, cried that I should stop this madness, but I ignored it. I'd been waiting for him for so long, and I wasn't about to put on the brakes now. When my pelvis made contact with his and I felt his arousal, I knew there was no turning back.

Growling, Sam cupped my behind, picking me up. My legs wrapped around him and my feet left the floor. He delved into my shoulder and burned a trail along my collarbone with his tongue as he walked me over to his couch. I fell on it and his weight covered my body, his hardness pressing into me, causing me to cry out.

"Are you..."

I cut him off by taking his mouth with mine and it was my turn to ravish him. My hands worked the buttons on his shirt and he shucked and tossed it away when I was done. The t-shirt joined it wherever it had gone. He pulled back enough to release me from my tank top and when his hands moved to my loose fitting pants, I wriggled out of them as he guided them past my hips and down my legs. The soft material whispered as it hit the floor. Then he was on top of me again. The soft prickle of his chest hair set my nerves on fire and my hips moved of their own accord, ramming against his and making him moan. I was so close to losing myself and I wanted it to go on forever, yet find relief.

A soft breeze came through the broken window and tickled my nipple, and I realized that Sam had stripped my bra from me without my realizing it. He was good at stealth. I smiled and ran my hands over his chest as he rose, and I opened my eyes and saw him staring down at me.

"Is there something wrong," I asked. I was afraid to break the spell by speaking, but I wanted to be sure that I hadn't done something to make him stop.

"Nothing's wrong," he replied in a thick, throaty voice dripping with desire. "I'm just looking at you. You're so beautiful, Nina. I've... I've been attracted to you since we first met, but..."

"If you want me, I'm yours," I said while reaching for the button on his waistband. His eyes moved down my body and stopped at my hands working the zipper and pushing the fabric past his hips. By the look on his face, I could tell he was pleased.

Sam slipped off the couch to let his pants dribble to the floor. All the while his eyes were on me, hungry, and I was the only thing that could sate him. I reached for my panties and slipped them off, but he jumped forward and finished the job himself while blazing a trail of hotness down my stomach with his tongue. The panties were gone and I was bare and vulnerable to his attentions. He knew just where to touch to set me on fire, and his fingers and tongue worked magic until I came to the apex and tumbled over it with a loud cry. Like lightning he moved and covered my mouth with his. I tasted myself on him, and I normally didn't like that sort of thing, but with him it was so sweet.

My hand fumbled for his boxers, pushing furiously to get them over his buttocks. The firm roundness distracted me for a few moments and I caressed and cupped him. He moaned into my mouth. His hand finished removing the silky material, and he was finally exposed. I reached for him and cradled him in my hand, coddling and stroking until he bent backwards and groaned. I looked at the sheer ecstasy on his face before he pulled away and dove in, filling me with his hardness. I had barely recovered from the first round, and the friction of our bodies bound together and moving as one brought me quickly to the brink again. Like a drowning woman, I pulled his head down and covered his mouth with mine, and we danced in the throes of our desires. He rammed into me and he let out a sound that would have been agony in any other situation. He expanded, throbbed, and I sensed a warmth spreading inside.

I didn't expect him to pull out, still heaving from the exertion, panting. "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that without... precautions."

"It's okay," I said as I pulled him down to lay on me. I caressed his face, my skin prickling at the extended growth since he first arrived, and I smiled. "I'm on birth control for a medical condition." I took his hand and guided it down to my hip and my smile widened. "Somehow, in all your... handling... you never felt this." I let his fingers roam over the patch. "So you don't have to worry."

"That's good," Sam said and dropped his head onto my shoulder. He let his breath slow down to normal, placing kisses on my bare skin now and then.

"Careful," I warned, "You got yourself into trouble doing that before." I chuckled.

Sam picked me up and straddled me over his lap as he sat on the couch. "Nina, if I have to be stuck here forever, you make the idea a lot more attractive." He took my mouth and started another fire in me that only his love could tend and turn into a blaze. I was like a wild woman with him, and I liked being able to see him climbing to that height where he couldn't take anymore and came crashing into me, filling me until we were both exhausted. Through some creative maneuvering, Sam created a double bed with two couches, and we curled up together and went to sleep.

My dreams had never been this good. I hoped that in the morning I wouldn't wake to find that it had all been in my head. I wanted this part of my wishing to be true. It was selfish of me, but I hoped that Sam would never find his way home and we could be together forever. I loved him. Whether or not he loved me, well, that was a weighty question. At the moment I didn't care, but I felt pretty certain that he would if he didn't already. With that thought, I slipped into a blissful sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The next morning Sam made another grocery run and returned with a copy of the Miami Herald. Puzzled, I didn't think he bought it so I could see where my column was missing. I glanced at the front page and flipped it to see the bottom, and I almost dropped it to the floor when I saw the headline.

"'Herald Features Reporter Missing.' Oh dear." I scanned the columns beneath the headline. "Sam, did you read this? The police think I've been kidnapped by some Russian group, and the Russian embassy is getting involved, denying everything. Oh, brother. This has gotten way out of hand!"

"Just be glad they don't know the truth," Sam said as he pulled out a bag containing two fresh bagels and a small container of cream cheese and laid them on the desk. "I bought some extra stuff, because I think we're gonna have to be careful about going out for awhile."

"You know, if I went to a phone and called my boss, I could clear this up in a heartbeat." I dropped the paper on the desk and sat across from him.

"Too risky if the Russians see you."

"Then the paper will be right if they grab me." My eyes met his.

"No! I can't let you become a sitting duck like that!"

The ferociousness in his voice took me off guard, and I was flattered that he cared so much. Maybe he was falling for me. That thought boosted my ego, even if a relationship between us could never be more than what it currently was. "Then come with me. I'm sure there has to be a phone near this market you keep going to."

"Yeah, around the side." He admitted it and looked away as he added, "We'll go after breakfast. Just make it quick."

"I will. I promise."

Sam walked close beside me, with my hand in his like a couple of lovers out for a morning stroll. I could sense the tension in his body, and coupled with mine, we were quite the pair. The market was a couple blocks away, which surprised me. I didn't think Sam would take that kind of risk. It was no wonder he was so concerned about me going alone. I squeezed his hand, prompting him to glance down, and I gave him a reassuring smile and an impetuous peck on the cheek. He smiled and returned it with a swift kiss on my lips before turning his attention back to where we were going.

He dropped some change into my palm and shielded me as I approached the phone. I dialed the number that would take me directly to Murphy's desk. Over my shoulder, I watched Sam standing with his hands clasped in front of his body, his head moving in a slow casual scan of the area with his eagle eyes hidden behind sunglasses.

"Joe Murphy, editor's desk," he answered. Murphy always answered his own calls. He loved to micromanage that way.

"Murphy, it's me, Nina."

"Nina! Where the hell are you? Are you okay?" I was taken aback by the concern in his voice. In all the time I knew my boss, I always thought that the only thing he cared about was the story. He continued in a worried tone. "Barbara said she heard from a friend of yours a couple days ago, and since then, nothing. You know what the cops think?"

"Yes, I saw the article. That's why I'm calling, because I need to set the record straight. I haven't been kidnapped by Russians, Sir. My friend, the one who called Barb, is in trouble and he needs my help." Behind me, I heard squealing tires, doors slamming, and voices. I turned and saw three police units blocking the street, and every cop using them as cover and aiming their guns at Sam. "Murphy! The cops are here! What's going on?"

"I don't know, kiddo. Get the story and call me back, and maybe you'll keep your job." The line went dead. He smelled a story again and all his concern went out the window. I should have known he didn't really have a heart.

I dropped the receiver onto the cradle and turned as the cops yelled at Sam to put his hands behind his head. He glanced at me, looking for help. I blurted, "No! Don't arrest him! He's my friend! He's trying to help me!"

But they wouldn't listen. Two officers came forward and pushed Sam away from me. He stumbled off the curb and threw his hands out to stop his fall as he hit the hood of the cruiser.

"What part of hands on your head don't you get, Comrade? Hands on your head, now!"

"Sam!"

Hands grasped my arms and led me to a squad car. I fought against them, screaming at the officers to leave Sam alone. It was as if I was invisible, they were so hell-bent on taking in their suspect. The back seat was hard fiberglass and very uncomfortable. I think the officer apologized to me, but I didn't hear him. Through my tears I watched Sam getting searched and cuffed, and they shoved him into the back seat of another unit. The door slammed on him like a cell door. He turned his head toward me, regret and an apology in his eyes. If anyone was sorry, it was me. It was because of my stupidity that he was now being hauled off to the police station like a criminal.

I felt like I was under arrest myself when they put me into a plain room with a table and two chairs, and a camera high in the corner replaced the stereotypical one-way mirror. The temperature was pleasantly cool, which I didn't expect. Interrogation rooms were supposed to be hot and sweltering. Maybe that's the way it was in Sam's, if the authorities were questioning him. I'd been there an hour and a half and was getting impatient when a detective came in after knocking. He was about my age, blonde and kind of cute when he arrived with a smile, a file folder, and a bottle of water.

"If you'd rather have something else, let me know." He said as he set the bottle on the table and held out his hand. "Detective James Kowalski."

I took his hand and shook it. "Nina Kirk. Thanks for the water, Detective. I could use it."

He sat and placed a slim folder near his right elbow. "You're welcome. So, Ms. Kirk, please tell me about where you've been the past few days. Where did your kidnapper take you? Did he harm you in any way? Did he… force himself on you?"

"First of all, Sam didn't kidnap me. I went willingly. It was either that, or the Russians would have killed us."

Detective Kowalski's eyes narrowed in disbelief as he watched me drink from the bottle. I knew he was measuring my movements, trying to decipher the clues of my body language to see if I was lying, and to his disappointment he was coming up with nothing. "I don't understand. Your neighbor," he consulted the file and closed it before continuing. "Your neighbor Gary Robinson said that a group of Russians invaded your apartment and that you were taken by one of them."

"No, that's not what happened!" I screwed the cap onto the nearly empty bottle and leaned back into my chair. "Let me tell you what really went on." I left out the part about how Sam was there through unexplained means, but just about everything else I related as it happened. The detective sat staring at me, nodding now and then, but he let me get everything out in the open. I was glad for that, because as I analyzed the events of the past few days, as a whole it reminded me that it was too crazy to be true. Yet it flowed out in a logical pattern and Detective Kowalski appeared to believe me.

"So this Sam Axe was protecting you? He wasn't a kidnapper?"

I nodded. "That's correct." My brow furrowed as a wave of sadness overcame me, thinking of Sam being held in a cell somewhere. "So can you let him go, please? He's done nothing wrong."

"Well, we would, except we have a little problem." Detective Kowalski folded his hands on the table and looked deep into my eyes. "Mr. Axe doesn't exist. We've checked every government database and he's not in any of them. We even checked his fingerprints against military records, and he doesn't come up." He sighed. "If there's anything you can tell us to prove he is who he says he is, it would help get him out faster. As long as he's innocent."

"He is!" My mind raced, trying to come up with a way to free Sam. I leaned forward and said, "Maybe he's not in your system because he's in covert ops? Did you ever stop to consider that?"

"Covert ops, like CIA? The CIA doesn't spy on Americans." Kowalski's cheeks flushed a slight pink. "Well, not officially."

I smirked, crossed my legs, and threw an arm over the chair back. He knew I was a reporter, and no doubt he assumed that I knew the truth regarding all the spying going on within our borders. "Yeah, whatever. The point is, if he's CIA, NSA, whatever, he's probably working under an alias and his prints will be locked away in some impenetrable government database. It's no wonder you found nothing on him."

Kowalski leaned back in his chair and tapped the file folder on the table. "If that's the case, my Lieutenant isn't gonna wanna keep him on ice and risk getting spanked by the Feds." He let out a breath and chuckled. "He's gonna love this."

"I'm sorry. Sam and I didn't really get a lot of time to talk about who he was," I lied for Sam's sake, and thankfully Detective Kowalski didn't pick up on it. "I'm guessing. I don't have anything on which to base my theory."

"Don't worry about it. I'm sure if he is an agent, by now the big guys have either been called in, or my partner is telling the Lieutenant that this guy needs to be set free."

I smiled. "That would be great if he can go. He's a really nice guy. And no, it's not the Stockholm syndrome setting in. Detective, he saved my life more than once and was trying to keep me away from the Russians."

"Thank you for your time and your testimony, Ms. Kirk." Detective Kowalski stood and beckoned me to rise. "We'll get you a ride home and everything will be taken care of with Mr. Axe, or whoever he really is."

"I'd like to wait for him, if I may." In the reception area I turned to the Detective and gave him my sweetest beseeching look.

"It'll be awhile. You're better off going home. Trust me."

Before I knew it, a black and white was escorting me to my apartment complex. The officers gave me my purse that I left at the motel, but the clothes they were keeping as evidence. Fortunately Sam packed my casual outfits, nothing that was my favorite, because most likely I'd never see them again.

The only thing that mattered was being able to see Sam, but the officers made it quite clear that wasn't going to happen until Sam was released and he was free to go wherever he pleased. Even then, he might take his arrest as a sign that he should find a way back to his world and he would leave without say goodbye. If I believed that, I was idiot.

The officers dropped me off at the apartment entrance. It was dusk and the air was typical Miami sticky. If I didn't have a busted living room window, I'd be looking forward to getting into my air conditioned apartment. I don't know how I managed the heat and humidity when Sam and I were holed up in the warehouse. Maybe being with him was a distraction from my discomfort. A bead of perspiration ran down the side of my face, and it came back to me full-force. No, I would never forget a single detail, not as long as I lived. We were hot and miserable, but we had each other, and he was good company. Very good company. A smile played on my lips as I recalled the night filled with passion, and I shook off a tingle of desire and resigned myself to the possibility that he and I would never be able to repeat it.

"Excuse me." I heard a familiar male voice and turned to see a figure emerge from the shadows. Two of them, to be exact.

I gasped and jumped back, flipping my key ring on my index finger so that the pepper spray was up and ready. The figures came into the light and I gaped. "Michael. Jesse. Thank God you're here!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Michael Westen and Jesse Porter in the flesh! My heart raced and I stared at them. They stared at me, puzzled as to how I knew their names, no doubt. Michael managed to find his voice first and asked, "You know us?"

"Not personally, but I feel like I do. Hi, I'm Nina Kirk," I responded and smiled as I held out a hand. "I watch you on TV all the time."

Michael shook my hand, and he and Jesse exchanged glances. "Nice to meet you, Nina."

"What do you mean, you watch us on TV?" Jesse's brow furrowed with cluelessness.

"Never mind, there's no time for that right now! Come with me inside. Sam is in trouble and he needs our help!" I unlocked the door with my key fob and let them go ahead of me. "Just out of curiosity, how'd you find me?"

"We came here looking for Sam," Michael replied. "When we talked the other day, he told me the name of the apartment complex where he was, so as soon as we went through that... whatever that was... we searched for this place."

"Well, I'm glad he told you where I was and that you're here. He's being held by the police right now on suspicion of kidnapping and he needs you now more than ever." I stopped in front of my door and faced them. "They haven't charged him with anything yet, partly because they don't have enough evidence based on my testimony."

"He wouldn't kidnap anybody unless it was warranted," Jesse said. "Why'd you tell the cops that?"

"Shhh, will you keep it down? I didn't tell them he kidnapped me. I said that he was helping me, keeping me from the kidnappers." I glanced around the hallway that was empty except for us. Thankful that no one popped their head out, I said, "Hang on, let's go inside and we'll talk. I'll tell you everything that happened." I unlocked the door and prepared for the worst. I was almost afraid to go inside, fearful that the rotting Russian corpse would still be on the floor. Police tape criss-crossed the door, but Detective Kowalski said my apartment was clear for occupancy again.

"What's that for," Michael asked.

I grimaced and ripped down the tape. "Long story. Come in and I'll give you the short version, and then we need to figure out how to get Sam out of jail!"

I stepped into the living room and was pleased to find that not only was the body gone, the window was fixed. Someone had cleaned the bloodstain, but a faint uneven circular area stood out where the off-white carpet had been bleached. Otherwise, there was no evidence that anything had happened, although I detected a slight odor of death.

"You guys want anything to drink?" They shook their heads, so I invited them to sit. I sat across from them, leaned my elbows on my knees and began the story of my wild ride with Sam. I left the lovemaking part out, of course. That was on a need to know basis, and it wasn't important to the situation at hand.

"So Sam is in lockup right now," Michael said, slow and calculating. His hands pressed into his knees, gripping them tightly. "Do you know exactly where?"

"The Detective said he was being kept at the station overnight, and in the morning they were meeting with the DA. Sam wasn't being very cooperative and he asked for a lawyer, so they had no choice. Most likely he'll have legal defense by morning." I blinked, an overwhelming wave of emotion passing over me. "The US government has been contacted as well, so the Feds will be showing up to interview Sam, I'm sure."

"Mike, that's our in," Jesse said with a slight smile spreading across his face. It wasn't a smile of joy, but satisfaction that he had a plan that would work. "We just need access to a couple of suits."

"It's kind of late to be going to the mall," I noted. Eying Michael's physique, I said, "Stand up, please."

He shrugged and stood, and I analyzed him as he turned in a slow circle. "I think I know someone who's your size, and I bet he'd have a suit you can wear. Stay here. I'll be right back," I exclaimed as I jumped from my seat. My eyes raked over Jesse. "I'm sorry, Jesse. You're too tall."

"Yeah, it's a curse sometimes," he quipped. "I suppose I can go the way I am." He was dressed in dark gray slacks and a mint green shirt with long sleeves that he'd rolled up to the elbow.

Michael examined Jesse from top to bottom and back again and nodded. "You look like an overworked Fed. It'll be fine." He swept his hands down in front of his outfit, a pair of dark greenish-gray fatigue pants and a black t-shirt with combat boots. "I, on the other hand, am not looking the part."

"Don't worry. Why don't you come with me, Michael? That'll save me the trouble of returning the suit right away if it doesn't fit."

"Jess, you stay here," Michael ordered, and Jesse nodded.

"No problem. If the Russians are still out there, it would be better for you to go with Nina anyway. We can't risk her being snatched."

"True." In the hallway heading toward Gary's apartment, Michael asked, "Why do the Russians want you?"

"Beats me. They were chasing Sam when he came here and I took him in." I stopped at the door and heard muffled sounds on the other side of the door. Either he was up watching TV or playing video games. Lifting a fist, I rapped hard on the wood.

I heard a muffled, "Coming!" Within seconds the door was open and Gary stood before us smiling at me as if he thought I'd come in for some geeky one on one time. "Nina, I'm so glad you're safe! Did you get away from that Russian guy? Or did the cops find you?"

"Sam was not one of the Russians, Gary. Now, I don't have time for this." I flapped a hand toward Michael. "Gary, this is Michael, Michael this is Gary. You two look like you're about the same size." Michael nodded in agreement. "Good. Gary, I need a big favor. Michael needs one of your suits, a shirt, and shoes. He's gotta look like a businessman."

Gary may have been an extreme computer geek, but I knew he spent enough time doing presentations and wearing suits. Surely he had something Michael could wear! His smile never wavered as he kept his eyes on me. Gary let us into the apartment and hustled to his room to pick out a couple of suits. A dark gray with a faint herringbone pattern fit well, and I was pleased to see that Michael could rock the pink shirt. Anyone, except for Sam, would have looked too effeminate in the shade.

When Jesse saw my car he gave Michael a look, but Michael seemed oblivious to its similarity to Fiona's. He just needed transportation for the mission. "Michael, do you think it's safe for us to be out on the streets? Sam and I haven't seen those Russian guys since I got away from them at the motel, but I doubt they're gone."

"Yeah, we're keeping an eye out for them. Don't worry." Indeed, while he sat in the passenger seat, Michael scanned the sidewalks and other cars. Fortunately there weren't many people out in this part of town, not at this hour.

I found a parking space as close to the station entrance as I could get without taking a handicapped spot, and the three of us entered the building. Michael and Jesse were appropriately dressed for their parts, but I had no idea what they were planning on doing for identification. Michael strode to the reception desk and whipped out something that looked official.

"I'm Agent Preston with the FBI, and this is my associate Agent Cole. We were told you have a prisoner for us, a Sam Axe."

The Sergeant gave Michael a long look, longer than he'd had to examine his ID. "Hang on, I've gotta talk to the Detective."

"Make it fast. We've got to get this man to DC ASAP." Michael leaned his elbow on the narrow shelf in front of the bullet proof glass and chewed on a piece of gum, looking around the reception area with a bored expression.

Getting off the phone, the Sergeant announced, "Detective Kowalski is handling the case, and he'll be right out. Please, have a seat over there."

Michael tugged on his lapels as he stood straight. "No thanks, I'll stand. We just flew two hours from DC after being stuck on the tarmac for an hour. I've sat enough, thanks." He slowly paced in a large circle with his hands on his hips, his open suit jacket showing off his trim figure, and the Sergeant watched him with increasing nervousness.

Detective Kowalski came out and his eyes gravitated to the two strangers before he focused on me. He looked really tired and a little annoyed. "You caught me just in time. I was about ready to go home." He smiled and said, "Ms. Kirk, what are you doing here?"

I came forward and with a confident voice I said, "Detective, these men came from Washington DC to pick up Sam and take him back."

"Really? You guys care to tell me why?" He eyed Michael and Jesse with suspicion, and he stood with his hands on his hips, mirroring Michael's stance.

In a bland, authoritative voice, Michael responded. "That's classified. I'm afraid we can't talk about it, just that Sam Axe is a very important part of our investigation." Michael stepped closer to the Detective. He was slightly taller, enough to give him an intimidating stare down.

Kowalski would not be swayed by Michael's show. He returned the menacing stare and said, "Yeah, well, you can't have him yet."

I sighed loud enough for everyone to look at me. "Why are you people holding him? Sam didn't do anything! The Russian guys were trying to kidnap me, not him. Sam is a nice guy, a true blue American. He probably doesn't even know Russian."

"Actually, he does," Detective Kowalski said.

Shoot, I'd forgotten that it was mentioned in an episode that he spoke Russian!

Kowalski continued. "He's in a holding cell right now with another guy, and they're chatting up pretty good. I don't know the language myself, but it sure sounds like Russian to me."

"Wait. You put one of the kidnappers in the same cell as our guy," Michael raged. "What were you thinking?"

"If he can help us get through to him, things'll go easier on Sam. That's what I'm thinking," Kowalski countered. "The fact that we can't ID Sam isn't helping him get out of here. That and the fact that he won't talk and corroborate what Ms. Kirk told us, we can only assume that he's worth keeping. We get those things ironed out, and he helps break a possible Russian spec ops, we might cut him some slack."

"There's a reason you can't ID him, Detective." Michael's voice rose in volume and gruffness, and he suddenly dropped it when he realized that the Sergeant was eyeing him. "He's spec ops. I shouldn't even be telling you this." Looking around and licking his lips, he continued, "If Sam gets hurt..." His tone was as cold as ice and his blue eyes were even colder as he stepped closer to the Detective. "You'll have to answer to my boss, and believe me, you'll be lucky if you've got a backside left after we're done."

"Okay, okay. Come on, I'll take you to him."

Detective Kowalski led us down a corridor lined with cells, most of which were empty, until we came upon the one with Sam and the other man. I studied him, trying to place him at the motel or my apartment, but he didn't look familiar.

"Sam, Agents Preston and Cole are here to get you out of town." He didn't make a move to open the door.

"Hey, that's great!" Sam grinned at his friends. "Did Nina call you?' He slipped me a private smile.

"No. We got a call from HQ, and we're taking you back to DC. We can talk about it later." Michael gave Kowalski a pointed look. "After you've been released, of course."

"Sure. I just need to talk to Sam about something, and then after a little paper pushing, he'll be on his way." Kowalski nodded at the officer in charge of the cells. He came forward and opened the door to let Sam out, but he gave the Russian a death stare. The other man stayed inside.

The Detective placed the four of us into an interrogation room while he went to take care of the paperwork. The door closed and immediately Michael asked, "Sam, what happened? How did you wind up here?"

"How did you guys get here?"

"Uh, guys, I know you're all eager for answers, but you might want to hold off." I tilted my head in the direction of the camera in the corner.

"You're right. Thank you," Michael said with a short nod. He looked nervous but he kept it well hidden for the camera. He grinned and patted Sam's upper arm. "Boy, are we glad to see you."

"I'm glad to see you two, Brother. It's been a crazy few days."

The Detective knocked and entered the room carrying a thin file. "You can go, Sam. I just got the DA out of bed and talked to him. He's not interested in pursuing this, so we're not gonna charge you with anything."

"That's great!" I exclaimed and pressed my hands together. "Thank you, Detective."

"Hey, no problem. I've got a lot of other legitimate cases out there. I don't need to be wasting my time on this." He took a breath and returned his attention to Sam. "You can go, but first I need to know what that Russky said while you were sharing a cell."

"Not much, I'm afraid." Sam shrugged. "I'm sorry, man. He's just a stoolie, taking one for the team so to speak. They're still out there, and he said something about a meeting point at Brickell Key, but that's it. He was supposed to meet friends there and he was being falsely accused." He let out a small sigh. "He was really careful, even though I spoke his language fluently. I'm sorry. Really, if you gave us enough time I'm sure we could get something out of him."

"Thanks, Sam, but your pals here say you need to get back to DC." Kowalski smiled. "Thanks to what you got, it's a start."

Before we knew it, Sam was walking out of the station house with Michael, Jesse, and me. He walked beside me and took my hand, squeezed it, and flashed me another one of those smiles that melted my insides. We stopped at the car and I had to release his hand to open it. He sat up front with me.

"Where to, boys?"

"Back to your apartment, if you don't mind," Jesse suggested. "We need to talk about these Russians and figure out what our next step is."

"No need for that, fellas." Every eye landed on Sam as he spoke. He shifted in his seat to address Michael and Jesse in the back. "That guy in my cell wasn't just a stoolie. He was a contact person for the team. Seems to me we find the team, we take care of the problem, end of story."

"But what do they want," I asked.

"They want Mike dead, and I was just an avenue to get to him. But I guess they figured after awhile that they were in the wrong place and that I was stuck here, so the plan was for them to go back to their launch point." He took a breath. "Ivan was supposed to meet them there, but he got picked up by the cops."

"How on earth did you get him to tell you all that," I asked.

"I told him if he got back, I'd make sure he got a deal. He wants to stay in America and live the dream, I guess."

The dream. I wished I could tell the guy that dreams and wishes weren't all they were cracked up to be. After all, look how mine twisted around and turned into something completely different than I'd hoped for. And now, it appeared that it would only get worse. They were all making plans to go home. Even Sam.

"So they're back where we belong," Jesse said.

"Perfect. We'll go back to where we came in," Michael said. "Sam, do you remember where you entered this universe, or whatever it is?"

"It had to be close to Nina's apartment," Sam replied. "I came out in an alley, ran a few blocks and around a couple corners, and there was her building. Someone was leaving, so I ducked in pretending like I lived there."

"You'll probably have to go back to where you started," Jesse said. "At least that's what I'm guessing."

"Okay." The word sounded so sad and hollow inside the vehicle. "I'll take you guys to your location, and then I'll drop off Sam." I swallowed a lump in my throat, afraid I would start crying. This was the end, and I didn't have time to prepare for it. I had only as long as it took to drop Michael and Jesse off and deliver Sam to his spot. Just saying goodbye to them was bad enough. While Jesse searched for the spot to go through, I said to Michael, "You take good care of Sam. I don't want anything to happen to him."

"None of us does," Michael declared with a smile. "Thanks for taking care of Sam while he was here."

"It was my pleasure." My eyes slid to Sam and it pleased me to see him duck his head to hide his flushing face. He knew my words weren't superficial, and obviously neither were his.

"Found it, Mike. Sammy, my man, we'll all meet at Carlito's and plan our next moves," Jesse said. "Don't stay too long. Time's wasting on us finding these guys."

"Yeah, I know. I'll see you in a little while."

Sam and I stood side by side and watched as Michael and Jesse stepped up to a driveway that led to the large door of a bakery warehouse. They turned and looked at us before taking a step, then another, and my jaw dropped when their bodies went right through the door. It was like something out of a science fiction show.

Sam's words came out on a breath. "Did you just see that?"

"Yeah," I answered Sam with the same breathless inflection.

"I wonder if I'll have to do that too. I know there was a brick wall behind me when I just appeared in that alley." He turned and cupped my elbows with his hands. "Dammit Nina, I've got to go."

I fought the tears, but a couple of rebels slithered down my cheeks. He wiped them away and I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensation of his skin on mine. I dared to speak. "Right now I want to be selfish and beg you to stay." I opened my eyes. "But I know you could never do that because Michael and Jesse need your help. I hope they can recruit Fiona too."

The corner of his mouth tipped up. "I'm sure Mike's already working on that."

His hands framed my face and his eyes wandered to my lips. His lips followed, and he kissed me with such tenderness that a sob broke from deep inside. My arms wrapped around him and I was afraid I would never be able to let him go. But I had to. I knew that there were a few more episodes for the team before Burn Notice faded off the air, and they needed Sam in order to complete them.

"Please, Sam, don't die. Promise me that you and Jesse'll have a spinoff or something." I sniffled and buried my face in his collar.

Sam laughed, and I loved the sound. "A spinoff with Jesse? Are you serious?"

"Yes! You guys are so funny together. It would be great. The fans have had to deal with three years of darker and darker episodes." I braved a look at his face and saw sadness in his. I ran my hand along his cheek and said, "It's time for some levity."

"I couldn't agree more. We're all tired of this, but I guess if we're getting taken off the air, no matter what we'll be getting our rest. Forever."

Another sob choked out of me. "Don't talk like that!" I clasped him to me again and with desperation in my weepy, raspy voice, I said, "If it looks like the end, leave. Come back here. You know I'll be waiting for you."

"I don't know if I can, but I promise you, if it's at all possible, I will." He buried himself in the joy of joining in one last kiss. He didn't want it to end, and neither did I. But it had to, and eventually he broke the contact and slipped away. He left so swiftly, I didn't have time to register that he was out of my arms until I opened my eyes and saw him fade into the brick wall. His eyes were on me the entire time and his left hand held up in a slight wave.

"No! Sam, don't go!" I ran up to the wall and tried to get through, but I only succeeded in crashing into it and bumping my cheek. The rough baked clay scraped my skin and I felt a wetness there. I didn't care. My hands pressed and prodded all around the space where I knew Sam had disappeared, but nothing worked. He was gone. I was the one who was stuck, and I couldn't imagine what life would be like without the excitement of Burn Notice in my life. Not just the show. Sam was who I would miss the most.

As I trudged back to my car, I felt an increasing weight spreading over my shoulders like a mantel of despair. I would go back to my life but I would never be able to shake the deep sense of loss. I'd lost something important that day. Somehow I managed to get myself to the apartment and return to my unit. Gary would most likely be hounding me in the morning for his suit. I totally forgot about it in the heat of the moment. I would get him a new one to replace it, because that was the right thing to do.

If only it were that easy to fill the giant hole in my heart.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Nina, Nina, Nina," Murphy chanted my name as he shook his head and clicked the mouse, closing out the file on the screen. "The Dancing Granny story was great, well worth the missed deadline. But this... this is... insane. I can't print this!"

"But it happened, really!" I stood over his desk with my fists on the surface, biting my bottom lip. I was afraid this would happen, but I had to write the story. It had been gnawing at me for the past two months, and I needed to get it out of my system. I'd hoped it would exorcise my fantasies, but it didn't help. It did, however, act as a tool to help me with my grief.

"You have proof? Your friend Sam is gone, so he can't corroborate your story. The cops are not going to turn over their records regarding his arrest. If any of it ever happened." He sighed and leaned back in his chair as he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "Maybe you need a change. It sounds to me like you need some hard news, get away from these features for awhile."

"I don't need..."

"Look," Murphy spoke in a soft voice, as if I were a jumper and he was trying to talk me off the ledge. "Everybody goes through this in their career. Let's just give it a try for awhile, and maybe you'll get your creative muse back to find those heartwarming stories that are lurking in Miami." He gave me a fragile smile as he held out a piece of paper. "There's a fire at a Chinese restaurant on seventh. Go check it out and get a good story. And then there's a press conference at noon at the convention center."

I tore the assignment list out of his grasp, defeated, and said, "Okay, we'll give it a try."

After Sam left, the life seemed to drain out of me and I couldn't find the spark that made me love my job. So this was a warning of sorts, that if I didn't straighten myself out I was going to find myself unemployed. Part of me didn't care. The practical side of me acted like a good little soldier and went out to complete my assignments.

I finished interviewing the owners of a Chinese restaurant that had gone up in flames, and from initial findings, it seemed that it was arson. Questioning the witnesses and the owners, I discovered that there had been some animosity between the Changs and a competitor who ran a roving food truck. After I finished examining the exterior at the back of the burned out establishment and took a few pictures, I glanced down the alley and a memory flashed. Even in daylight, I recognized the place.

My feet took me down the block, and by the time I reached the brick wall, I was almost running. Not sure what I expected to find or why I was there, I simply stood in the middle of the alley and stared at the wall. I reached out and touched it, pressing, searching for an opening. There was nothing. Tears flooded my eyes and I wandered back to my car.

This was sick. The wall was becoming an obsession almost as bad as my love for Burn Notice. Each week dragged until a new episode was shown, which I recorded so I could watch over and over again. I knew the dialogue by heart, especially the scenes with Sam in them. I fixed on him and took note of the shirts he wore. I almost fell off the couch when I saw he wore one I'd given him that he had on when he left. It ripped open my wound all over again and I mourned my loss after the episode was over and the credits gave way to the next show.

I should have been covering a city council meeting, but the ache inside had become so agonizing I couldn't do anything but return to the alley. I'd been leaving lipstick marks that were starting to create an odd mosaic. Somehow, not even the torrential rains could erase my tokens of love, and in fact someone sprayed artistic graffiti around them, making the lip prints look like rosebuds. It was a work of art, yet I felt violated. This was my place, and someone marred it. A sniffle turned into trails of tears, which morphed into sobs. A part of me felt ridiculous pining for something I couldn't have, but majority ruled and I collapsed at the base of the wall, my hand pressed against it as my tears wet the brick.

My grief had so overtaken me that I didn't notice a shadow fall over my form. Hands grabbed me and I looked up into a pair of dark brown eyes devoid of warmth set into a craggy face. His gray hair was chopped close to his scalp like a military cut. He wore fatigues, and I recognized the clothing. My eyes scanned the men behind him. They were the Spetsnaz guys who had tried to kidnap me, and this time the leader brought reinforcements.

"Where is he? Where is Sam Ex?"

Thank God he mispronounced Sam's name again. It brought me back to my senses and gave me the courage to stand strong on my feet. I thrust my chin up in defiance and said, "You want him, you're going to have to get through those bricks. He went through a couple months ago. Haven't seen him since."

"We are in the wrong plane." The man beside the leader exclaimed. "We must find where we came through and go back, find this alley. Surely he will not be difficult to find then."

"Get away from me, you idiot. The girl isn't telling us everything." He smirked. "Not to worry, I get it out of you, little blyad."

I didn't know Russian, but the way he spoke that word, it didn't sound complimentary. I shrugged out of his grip, straightened my skirt, and hiked my purse on my shoulder. "I'm a reporter with the Miami Herald, and I'm late for an assignment, so if you'll please let me go..."

The Russians laughed at me, and it took every bit of will in my body to keep my hands at my side. I wanted to smack their leader. Instead, I took advantage of the merriment and turned on my heel to run. More Russians stood behind me, but I put up my arms preparing to block them. My entire body jerked backwards as the leader's arm circled my neck and drew me against his sweaty uniform.

"I will let you go when I am done. You try again and I will kill you, no matter what information I get or do not get from you. Understood?"

"Yes." I was seeing shooting stars and I knew that any second I would be unconscious. I gagged at the extra pressure.

His arm loosened and let me go, and I staggered into one of the other men. He smelled no better than the leader and he held onto me while the others formed a rim that would prevent me from escaping. The creepy crawly feeling of panic rose up, but I held firm, refusing to let him see that he had me scared.

"Can we just get this over with," I asked. "I've told you all that I know. Once Sam left this plane of existence, I honestly don't know where he went. You'd get more information by watching the last episode of Burn Notice. Trust me."

He didn't like that answer. His hand flew and my face stung from the impact. If the other man hadn't been holding onto my arms, I would have hit the pavement.

"Where did you take him?"

"Here! This is the last place I saw him!"

"Take her. We will make her talk."

Suddenly I was surrounded by hands grabbing my arms. I kicked at my attackers, getting one solidly in the shin. He let go of me. I kicked again and heard something crack. The shooting pain running up my leg was solid proof that it wasn't my assailant's shin. I screamed half from pain and half from terror. I was pinned against the wall and I couldn't put any weight on my foot, so I sank to the concrete and hoped that there was still a way out of this mess. Fabric ripped and a hand squashed my breast. More tearing and hands groping and a boot came from the melee and kicked my side. All I could do was scream and wait for the end to come.

"Shut her up," someone shrieked.

My teeth rattled against each other with the blow from a fist. Still I squirmed and tried to call for help. An explosion echoed off the store backs and someone screamed in pain. A body fell on me. He was bloody, the red fluid gushing from his shoulder.

"Get off her!" More gunfire sounded.

"Go! Return to the rendezvous point!"

Another explosion rang out, followed by another. Another man went down, his leg bleeding. Someone helped him to his feet and covered their escape with his gun, firing at the shooter. The others scattered like roaches. Only the leader remained with his hand clamped around my neck cutting off my air.

"You wait. I find you and then I will kill you." He hauled back and smacked me across the face. Blood droplets flew and it sounded as if something snapped in my head. I was unconscious before I crashed to the concrete.

I was floating and Sam was kissing me. His lips were so gentle yet powerful that they brought me back to life. But it couldn't be, because he was gone. He had been for weeks, and there was only one episode of Burn Notice left. After that, I didn't know what would happen. I was afraid to think about it and die all over again inside. I almost died for real. At least, I stopped breathing.

"Sam..."

"Don't worry, Mikey. Go get those guys. Go on, Jesse. Get 'em!"

It had to be a dream hearing Sam's voice. I'd had enough of dreams. I shook my head, wishing it away. Why torture myself like this?

"Nina! Thank God you're breathing again. Come on, Baby, open your eyes." I almost stopped breathing again, afraid to follow the orders only to be looking at nothing but blue sky. A gentle hand patted my uninjured cheek and he spoke again. "Hey, sweetheart, can you hear me? Come on, open your eyes. I missed those sea blue eyes. Come on darling."

I moaned at his touch. Arms lifted me, and I leaned my head into his chest. I took a deep breath and got giddy with the scent of him. I moved a hand past the open collar and my fingers wriggled over his chest hair.

"Sam. It's... it's really you?" I opened my eyes to get the final proof, his worried face looking ready to break. I tried to smile, but it hurt too much. Instead, I raised my hand and touched his cheek.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I got delayed and I almost didn't get out." His voice turned to a whisper. "I almost lost you." He hugged me closer until I groaned from the pain. Alarmed, he lay me on the concrete. "You're gonna be okay, Nina. I promise, you're gonna be okay."

Sam dug into my purse and found my phone, and he used it to call for help. He stayed with me and insisted on riding along to the hospital. He even took my purse and held onto it after they wheeled me into the emergency room. I smiled at him, hoping to assure him that I would be fine.

A couple days in the hospital and I was ready to go home. It was a miracle that the worst injuries I had consisted of a broken foot and cracked ribs. Sam came every day to see me, but I looked forward to being with him, alone. He drove me to the apartment, helped me every step of the way and when we entered my place, he wanted to put me to bed right away.

"Sam, please. I'm fine!" I looked around the living room, amazed. Since he'd been there a few days I thought he would have beer bottles laying around or plates on the coffee table, but it was all neat and clean except for a few manly touches. I was embarrassed to say that it was cleaner than I left it. "What happened? It's..."

"We straightened up for you." He smirked in self-consciousness.

"We?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Mike and Jesse were here, but they found a place a few blocks away. Fi, well, if you've been watching the episodes, you know she and Mike didn't get their happy ending. She didn't come along." Sam picked me up and carried me to the bedroom. "Come on, you need to rest for awhile. We can talk about me and my friends later."

"What happened to Elsa?"

"She, uh, she dumped me." He looked down into my face and said, "I guess she finally decided she had enough of my running off to help Mike and her bankrolling our more expensive missions." His mouth twitched.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. We'll talk about that later." Sam laid me on the bed as if I was a feather on a pile of goose down, and he stretched out my legs, careful of the brace on my broken foot. His touch sent a shiver of delight through me and a shuddering breath escaped my lips. I should have known better. He asked, "Are you okay? You need any pain meds or anything?"

I opened my eyes and smiled at him. "I'd be better if you were to lay here with me."

His smile was beautiful and loving. "I'll be right back."

I heard the lock snap and the muffled thudding of his feet as he hurried back to the bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and lay on the spread, and before he hit the mattress he was grabbing my waist and pulling me against his body.

"Let me know if anything hurts, okay?"

"Okay." I licked my lips.

"And if I get a little overzealous when we...when I love you, you'll let me know, right?"

"I don't think there's any danger in that." My body was still sore and bruised in places, but now that I was with Sam, I could easily forget my pains. With boldness, I curled my hand around the back of his head and pulled his lips down to mine. I could have feasted on his kisses forever, but his hands had other ideas and I let him drive me to the brink of desire. He was careful and reverent as he sent me into the throes of ecstasy. Tumbling was the best feeling in the world, and I basked in the sound of him following close behind.

Afterwards, as we lay in each others arms, Sam said, "I'm so glad I took the leap. I didn't know if I'd find you waiting yet. It's been awhile." He released a long sight. "I wish..."

"What?" I leaned on my elbow and turned to hover over him. "One word of warning, you better be careful about wishing for things. I mean, look at what happened to me?"

A slow smile turned into a grin. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see how this all turns out. I told Jesse about your idea for a spinoff with the two of us. Maybe we could make it a reality in this world. Of course, with Mike, we'll have quite the team."

"Well, those bad guys better start running now if they know what's good for them."

"I don't care about the bad guys right now, just you." He kissed me and I was in heaven again. No dream or wish could ever match that moment.


End file.
